


The Remains of Warmth

by RenSual



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, He Tian's neck kink, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Phone Sex, Slow Burn, Sugar Baby Mo Guan Shan, Sugar Daddy He Tian, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yes a slow burn in a sugar daddy/baby context, just trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23326420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenSual/pseuds/RenSual
Summary: Guan Shan is an escort, and the palpable loneliness of his clients is what affects him the most about his job. The husbands, the fathers, the eternal bachelors, they all have the same subdued melancholy, the same resigned bitterness. It keeps Guan Shan awake at night, it mercilessly mirrors his own isolation, and he can feel the weight of it suffocate him a little more each day. He'll die because of it, he's sure. Strangled by loneliness.He Tian might be the loneliest person he has ever met, and yet, when they are together, breathing becomes the easiest thing in the world.
Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days), Jian Yi/Zhan Zhengxi (19 Days), Mo Guanshan (19 Days)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 283
Kudos: 861





	1. Of leather armchairs and folded papers

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!!!
> 
> You know how He Tian just showers Momo with gifts in attempts to earn a form of complicity? Yeah?  
> Well, I guess this AU comes from me daydreaming about that, so blame OX. kay?  
> Also, English is not my first language so sorry for the eventual mistakes.  
> Enjoy

**Meet me at the usual place in 1 hour,  
new client for tomorrow night  
She Li**

Guan Shan exhales. Long ago, he realized that he always holds his breath when he reads She Li's texts, as if he was getting ready to dive into the depths of an icy pool.

He shifts on his armchair, the brown leather makes a muffled cry at his movement. He slept on it tonight as well and, like the other times, his back gently aches. But its the only piece of furniture he likes with a genuine, unexplainable endearment. It surrounds him more than the blank flatness of a bed, it gradually warms up, echoing his own body heat. A little cocoon in which he can curl up and sleep peacefully.

But even then, with warmth all around him, he can't suppress a small shiver. New client. Huh.

New clients are always tricky. They are an important part of his revenue, but they require a small background check before a proper meeting. No matter how much money they represent, they are also a latent menace, the hypothesis of fractured bones, destroyed boundaries, pulsating wounds. It didn't happen to Guan Shan a lot, but it still happened enough that he knows how to be aware of the new ones, and cherish the regulars.

At the moment, Guan Shan has three. Zheng Jie, a married man who only sees him at dawn or dusk, that is to say the only moments his wife thinks he is going to or coming from work. Guan Shan is pretty sure he never saw him under a blue sky, only red suns, scarlet lights, pink clouds. Only transitional hours. 

Li Sung, an old man who enjoys the bratty, spicy, youthful beauties. Fiery young men like he surely was one in the past. His face keeps the traces of faded beauty, the ruins of a dashing handsomeness. He enjoys Guan Shan as much as someone can enjoy something they aren't, they cannot be anymore, they can only remember. Guan Shan is a memory he can consume. There is nothing he likes more than see him behave with childlike anger and juvenile arrogance, which is what Guan Shan excels at. His kisses taste faintly of Viagra and his hands are rough like parchments. 

Curiously, the regular that Guan Shan thinks about with apprehension, the only one he truly loathes to see is the one that doesn't fuck him, Tao Yang. Each time, he takes him out, to dinner, to the movies, something outdoors. He buries them inside noisy places, surrounds them with passengers and strangers and pretends they are lovers. He is terribly plain looking, a lukewarm face that is far worse than any form of ugliness Guan Shan has ever seen. He takes him out and he talks about fragments of uninteresting things, and when it's over Guan Shan goes home but he stays haunted. Haunted by the man's loneliness, thick and vertiginous. He is sure that this guy has nobody in his life, no-fucking-body, and still he simulates a relationship. With him, Guan Shan is a lie: I am not alone. I have this. But Guan Shan is an expensive lie, and soon Tao Yang finds himself with an emptier wallet and a life empty still. He has nobody. Guan Shan is haunted by that. How lonely can you be to find solace in the most hollow form of companionship?

It's better if he doesn't think about it.

One hour later he is at Jacob's Ladder, the bar owned by She Li. The bar does it best to appear fancy and sophisticated and it succeeds. The colors are icy and sober, balancing deep blue, dark green and iron-grey with an elaborated taste. The surfaces are smooth, shiny, recently clean. 

He knocks on the black door of She Li's office, half-hidden by exotic, well-kept plants and he comes in without waiting for an answer. She Li is there, his white hair makes an angel-like halo around his angular face. He is sitting at his desk, and the paper he was reading before Guan Shan came in lays limp in his hands like a dead animal. Three of his men are present, silently guarding the small room with the solemn devotion of dog statues. She Li wordlessly gestures at Guan Shan to sit in the chair in front of him. Guan Shan obeys and holds She Li's reserved stare for a while. His eyes are cold as ever, but a coldness that has the outline of benevolence. She Li doesn't choose between kindness and cruelty, he leaves the meaning of his stare to the interpretation. It's one of his best traps so far because Guan Shan knows what he chose to see, before. What he thought he understood in the ambiguity of those yellow irises. What a fool he was.  
She Li just looks at him for several seconds, and Guan Shan decides to break the building tension before it becomes suffocating.

“So. New client.”

“Yes, and I seriously expect you to look better than this when you meet him.” She Li says, tone even and eyes fixating on Guan Shan's hair.

Guan Shan angrily rubs his hair. What's wrong with it?

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up, okay. My appearance is my business. Just fill me in.”

“Watch your tone.” She Li simply answers. He doesn't need to be menacing, the bodyguard at his left just steps closer and that's all it takes to make Guan Shan look down nervously.

“By the way, your appearance is my business. Want me to make you remember what you do for a living?”

There is a muffled laugh somewhere behind She Li. Guan Shan raises his eyes to glare at the asshole who dared to mock him but he only meets cold faces and neutral expressions. Bastards. As if they weren't paid for their body as well. Fuck.

“... Yeah, whatever. I promise you I'll look as fuckable as I can. I'll even write “FUCK ME” in my forehead with bright red letters if that makes you sleep better at night. Are we finished with this shit now? Can we talk about the job ?”

“Still with the attitude” She Li sighs, “You're lucky your clients like this little act of yours, otherwise I would not hesitate to let you die in the gutters.”

Again, the tone is not menacing. She Li doesn't need too, because it's not a menace, it's a fact, and that's what is the most frightening. Guan Shan opts for silence. He wants to be home as soon as possible, practice guitar, call his mother and watch the dumbest show he can find on Netflix. If the price to pay to shorten this meeting is to bow down to She-fucking-Li and be the polite puppet he wants him to be, then so be it. He just looks at She Li and waits.

“There, good boy” She Li purrs. “So, let's get into it. Your client.”

“Yeah.”  
  
“His name is He Tian, he is 31 years old. He is loaded. He booked you for the whole night, starting at six p.m. and ending anytime he wants in the morning.”

“Hu-huh” Guan Shan hums. For now, nothing special. The guy is younger than Guan Shan's usual clients. Aside from that, nothing new under the sun. She Li hands him a folded piece of paper:

“That's his address. Do not lose this.”

“Yeah, yeah”. Guan Shan takes the paper and slides it in the pocket of his vest. Paranoia is a routine in his work. Nothing is said online or by texts or calls, phones are easy to crack open, to penetrate. They are the most fragile receptacles for secrets. This is why Guan Shan has to meet She Li in person when information is to be delivered, and why addresses and occasional hotel room numbers are delivered on paper. Guan Shan usually burns them afterward, and the translucid smoke that comes out of the small fires always gets him a bit high.

“That's it.” She Li says after a moment. “You can go.”

Huh?  
Okay, that is something special. It's very little information even considering the circumstances. Usually, he gets more: The guy's social situation, familial situation, if he intends to become a regular, if he mentioned any kinks, any turns-off... There is usually a lot more to unpack.

“Wait, no, what?” Guan Shan says, confused. “You can't leave me with this! I barely know the guy!”

“Well, all the more reasons to get to know him tomorrow night, right?” Says She Li with a smile. Muffled laughter again, but this time Guan Shan catches the culprit and glares at him, and gets crumbs of satisfaction when he sees the bodyguard flinch and regain his composure guiltily. This day will not have been totally in vain.

“I can't go to his place knowing fucking nothing. What's his job? Is he married?” Asks Guan Shan, attention shifting back to She Li.

“No idea” he answers, eyes vaguely amused.

“Come on, She Li, this is not how it works! You're supposed to do a background check for me! Fuck, I'm not going to meet some Norman Bates psycho just because you're not fucking capable of doing your part of the job! You're not the one in danger here!”. 

She Li considers him and lays back in his chair. He looks bored now, almost sleepy. “Listen, Guan Shan, haven't I always taken care of you?”

Debatable. Guan Shan doesn't answer, and She Li misreads his silence as an agreement.

“If this guy hurts you in any way, I will deal with him as I dealt with any client who hurt my employees. He will regret it and he knows it. Don't worry, redhead. Okay?”

Employees. That's a nice term to use, very diplomatic. But Guan Shan supposes he is right: every time Guan Shan or another co-“employee” got hurt, She Li always made sure the guy behind it got what he deserved. Guan Shan knows that it's the act of a businessman and not of a friend; it has more to do with paying for broken objects at a store than avenging a loved one, but it's security nonetheless. 

“Besides, She Li continues, don't you need the money? Your mother still has a debt to pay, yes? And a full night of work is a lot of money.”

As always, stinging where it hurts. She Li knows where Guan Shan's weakness is, the part of him that is always bare, always red, raw, open. He gives to his words the shape of daggers and aims for this spot. And as always, it works. 

“Yeah, okay. I'll do it.”

She Li's eyes glisten like gold coins “Good, it's settled then.”

Guan Shan gives a hostile shrug, which is as rebellious as he can afford to be, and stands up. As he walks towards the door, with each step, the small piece of paper makes a rustling noise, regular like a heartbeat.

“Wait, Guan Shan! I do remember another thing.”

Gun Shan turns. She Li has a pensive expression. He looks puzzled, as if this almost makes sense to him, but not quite.

“He said he likes beef stew.”


	2. Of beef stew and minimalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan and He Tian meet.  
> It goes as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Here's the new chapter :)  
> Also, thanks so much for the comments & kudos you guys!  
> It what keeps my writing train going.  
> Choo choo, all aboard! 
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm a serious writer, I promise.

The ring of the doorbell echoes inside the apartment, and when the small melody dies, he hears muffled footsteps getting louder and louder.

Guan Shan clutches the grocery bag until his fingernails leave red little crescent marks on his palm.  
Well, this is unprecedented. To eat with a client is common, but to cook for one? He has had strange requests before, that he always was relatively allowed to decline, but never something quite like this. It unsettles him because, while it seems like such a mundane thing to ask for, cooking is a cherished fragment of Guan Shan's private life. It has always been the very definition of a familial activity for him; even now, when he cooks, his gestures always bring back an intuitive memory, a sacred, ceremonial moment where his father is at his side again. He discovered, with the awe only children possess, the texture of ingredients, the way their colors evolve when they warm up, guided by the voice of his father. To have the vestiges of his childhood's most treasured memories asked from him by a stranger, that is as if he was asked to open this safely guarded place for someone else's money, to transform nostalgia into a transaction. Nostalgia, one of the only places that have not been invaded. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the job.  
Well, it's too late now.

The door opens.

He Tian is not only the most handsome client he ever had, he is also the most handsome man he had ever seen. It's a traditional beauty: his features immediately make sense. Everything is already seen, rediscovered with the dazzling pleasure of familiarity: dark, carefully disheveled hair, well-drawn eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, thin lips, long black eyelashes that cast a diaphanous shadow on his eyes. Guan Shan, when he looks at him for the first time, realizes that he has already seen him, that everyone has already seen him. Not him exactly but these features, this body are all over magazines, movies, perfume adds. He is a type, the embodiment of a physique, the unauthentic definition of masculinity.

He is the norm of perfection, and most people probably envy that. The power it holds, to fit into an already-made mold, the highest of the hierarchy. The dark stranger, the school heartthrob, the desired husband, the secretly coveted co-worker. 

Guan Shan can partially understand, but at the same time he can sense the dread of this situation. He Tian's body is not entirely his own, and Guan Shan knows maybe a little too much about that. He Tian's body is not his because it belongs to everybody; because perfection is a public concept. He is condemned to remind people of- of a photo they saw, an erotic dream they had, a famous movie star they admire, an idea they keep. Guan Shan is guilty of this too: he immediately thought of that popular singer whose name he never remembers, but who shares the same pleasantly mischievous look, a velvety darkness in his features that evokes a kind, bearable form of sadness.  
This is by knowing this small tragedy, the anonymous quality of his own body, that Guan Shan stays unimpressed, almost apologetic, in front of He Tian's suffocating beauty.

Guan Shan appreciates that he doesn't look at him up and down, as if verifying the merchandise, he just stares right into his eyes. Then he wordlessly moves over and lets the redhead come inside.

A quick look around is enough to inform him of the incredible dimensions of his penthouse, as well as the minimalistic choice of decoration. 

“What's that?” He Tian asks, glancing at the plastic bag. His voice is exactly like one imagines it to be. Dark, suave, with hints of a macabre sensuality. 

“Ingredients.” Guan Shan answers.

“For?”

“Aren't you the one who said you like beef stew?”

He Tian frowns and then his face lits up when he remembers: “Oh, right.” Nothing more. He stares at Guan Shan and an easy, practiced smile forms into his lips. He doesn't move, doesn't give orders, directions, doesn't set an ambient mood that Guan Shan can catch on and adapt to. Guan Shan doesn't know what to do, usually by this time he can pinpoint the intent, whether it's sex or a more social form of companionship, and respond to it accordingly. So they both stay silent, they look at each other, He Tian with his entertained smile, Guan Shan with his confused frown.

Well, this is getting awkward.

“So.... do you want me to cook right now or....?”

A shrug. “Sure.” And He Tian turns and starts walking towards the kitchen. Guan Shan follows.

His apartment is exactly like him. Perfect, therefore known, anonymous, almost public. It vaguely reminds Guan Shan of Jacob's Ladder. Every color is glacial, from the grey of the couch to the pale blue of lamps. No personal items, no photos hung to the wall. The emptiness of it is omnipresent, so thick that it almost feels like a central piece of furniture.  
Guan Shan feels like he is in a catalog.  
Does this guy has any personality or is his whole universe as hollow as a skeleton?

He follows He Tian into the kitchen. He drops the groceries on the counter. “Where do you keep your utensils?”

“There are knives and forks in the drawer at your left. The rest, I don't know. I'm sure you can figure it out.” He Tian answers. Did he just move in here? That would explain the lack of decorations...

After a little of fumbling around, under the steady, sphinx-like gaze of He Tian, who by the way doesn't help him at all, but judges him from an amused distance, Guan Shan finds all the right tools. He starts preparing the ingredients, silently hoping that He Tian will give anything he can work with, anything that will get this growing feeling of anxiety go away.  
But then vegetables are cut, the stew is boiling, the kitchen fills with a rustic smell of home-made food and He Tian still hasn't said a word. His lower back is leaning on the counter, his arms are crossed, his stare intense and mute as he looks towards Guan Shan.

Okay, engage the conversation. Be polite. It's your job.

“It's a nice place you got there.” He tries. He Tian just nods and keeps looking at him, his smile still a choreographed little arch. 

Oh god. He IS a Norman Bates Psycho, isn't he?

Okay, new tactic. Get him to talk about his day-to-day life. First, it will give Guan Shan actual ammunition for a fucking conversation. Second, it will convince him that this guy is not, in fact, a bloodthirsty murderer.

“What do you do for a living?” Guan Shan asks, and he morphs his voice in a pouty, coy tone, the mask of an endearing embarrassment. He knows what clients like about him, what is his value in the market: boyish charm, impish pettiness, grumpy kindness, all the attributes of a lovable brat. Accentuating these traits has proven to be very efficient in the past. He Tian doesn't move an inch. He is as unimpressed by this as Guan Shan is with his looks. He replies simply:

“.... Banana breads.”

“... huh?” What?

He Tian doesn't answer, he just chuckles as if he shared the most tasteful joke with himself, at Guan Shan's expense. He seems to appreciate the ridiculousness of his own lie, and his satisfaction only deepens when he sees Guan Shan's confused expression.

Okay, so he does have a personality. It's “asshole”. Splendid.  
Suddenly Guan Shan has an epiphany: He Tian is not a psycho, he is this kind of disgusting, entitled douchebag who call escorts and prostitutes, partially for sex but more fundamentally for the gratuitous pleasure of ridiculing them. Guan Shan knows the type. 

So, okay, that's his role then. An evening gag. A joke you can fuck when you're done laughing. Guan Shan can't stand this. the last time it happened to him, he ended up kicking the client in the stomach and She Li was furious. But even with she Li's punishment, it was all worth it. Just the memory of the guy's pained face is enough. So he won't take anyone's shit ever, no matter how She Li reacts, no matter how much money he loses.

“Fine, don't tell me. I don't fucking care.” He says abruptly. 

He Tian's smile drops. Finally. For a fraction of second, he looks lost, then he regains his smug expression with frankly impressive quickness. But Guan Shan can see how his smile is a little tight now. A rush of pleasure goes through his whole body, and he has to suppress a shiver.  
Take that, you rich fuck.

“How old are you?” He Tian asks. Maybe he is trying to smooth things out, but Guan Shan's pride won't let that go. There is nothing he enjoys less than being looked down, whether it's with the nauseating bittersweetness of pity or with the cutting bite of mockery.

“None of your business.”

He Tian tilts his head a little.

“Why are you suddenly being so aggressive?”

“You didn't answer my question! Why should I answer yours ?!”

“I did answer your question.” He Tian has the audacity to use a concerned, paternal tone when he continues his own fucking running gag. Guan Shan doesn't answer, he just glares at him. 

“Okay, I'm going to guess.” He Tian announces. 

Guan Shan stubbornly holds his inquisitive stare. He realizes then: He Tian's irises are the only part of him that he has never seen before. They are grey, and usually, this color has hints of other ones. There is always a little tint of blue, a twinge of green, or the most subtle nuance of warm chestnut, varying according to the environment, the weather. Not in He Tian's eyes. The only pigment is grey, an unalterable, unchallenged grey. Ambient light or surrounding colors don't seem to affect it at all. He Tian Speaks again, and Guan Shan is violently cut from his distracted contemplation.

“When you look at me like that, you look about twelve.”

Guan Shan huffs, offended. “I'm twenty-three fucking years old.”

“Twenty-three fucking years old. Wow.” He Tian claps. “I remember when I was twenty-three fucking years old. I was an ignorant little shit too, don't worry. It's not just you.”

Oh, so the bastard wants a war. Okay. Guan Shan can do that. “Oh? And how old were you when you became an arrogant fucking bastard, then? Twenty-five? Thirty?”

He Tian's expression turns completely menacing then, his smile becomes a rictus and his voice a gloomy, cavernous sound. “Care to repeat that again?”.  
Guan Shan doesn't look down nor backs off. Fear pools into his veins, but it doesn't subside his fury, on the contrary, it seems the anger feeds on this new feeling, and as He Tian steps closer to him, leering at him like a wolf, he feels a dark enthusiasm curl around his body. He welcomes the upcoming fight like he welcomes the first bite of ice cream on a summer day.

As He Tian is invading Guan Shan's personal space, the timer on Guan Shan's phone beeps. The stew is ready.

This little sound makes them come back from their trance. They look at each other, equally confused by the strange intensity of the confrontation that took place. Guan Shan realizes they are centimeters away, that he can feel He Tian's body heat radiating on his chest. He Tian must have realized it too because he steps back with a shuttered expression. 

“Beef stew's ready” Guan Shan mumbles. 

“... Right.” He Tian answers blankly. He takes plates and silverware from a drawer. “Take it and follow me. Let's go to the living room."

The living room, as Guan Shan expected, is cold and devoid of any particularities. However, still awestruck by the suddenness of the fire that burnt him moments ago, he refrains from commenting on that. They set the plates on a glass table, so clean that Guan Shan can only assume it's new.

As He Tian starts eating, Guan Shan tries to remember what led him to almost attack his client but it seems like a fever dream now, a sort of distanced memory that is barely plausible in its craziness. God knows he gets pissed off a lot, and especially by people like He Tian, but it's the first time this seething rage takes over his body so quickly. Now, in retrospect, it seems undeserved, out of proportions. The guy made a stupid joke about his job, so what? Maybe it wasn't a fucked up form of mocking condescendence, maybe he just wanted to avoid the subject. Maybe it's time to make peace. He is supposed to spend the night with him after all.

“It's very good. Eat some.”He Tian says. Okay, so apparently he shares his opinion. He still has his annoying smile, but he waits patiently for Guan Shan to start eating. His plate, Guan Shan notices, is half-empty already.

Guan Shan looks at the stew. The appearance and smell are enticing. But the ghost of his earlier anger still makes him a bit nauseous. “Thanks, but I'm not really hungry. I'll have a sandwich when I get home tomorrow.” He shrugs.

He Tian looks at him as if he suggested raising a family of spiders. “A sandwich.”

And just like that, Guan Shan is in the fever dream again, his body tense up, he jumps to conclusions, the storms come back as if they never left. “Yeah. Why? Not fancy enough for you?”

And just like that, He Tian goes back with him, and they begin the same spiral again. “Yes, this is exactly what I said. This is not a stupid extrapolation at all.”

“You know what, just eat. That'll keep your mouth busy and prevent me from punching you in the fucking face.”

He Tian smiles, but it's wolfish, like it's only an excuse to bare his teeth.“Oh, please, _please_ just try.”

Guan Shan leans in. “Don't tempt me. I will destroy that stupid face of yours.”

“Please. Look at you, as frail as a twig. If you try anything I will rip your intestines out.”

“Oh yeah, okay, that'll fit your apartment very well. It already looks like a TV set for the world's worst crime show.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was a "nice place I got there". ” He Tian mimics his voice with a high-pitched, childish tonality that is meant to offend. It does.

“It's not. I wonder how you can sleep in that shit. Although it suits you, it's probably as empty as your fucking life.”

He Tian leans back on his chair and looks at Guan Shan as if he disappointed him greatly. “See? You don't need to be my age to become an arrogant bastard.”

Guan Shan searches for a snarky reply but finds out he doesn't have one. His brain is totally empty, and the more he frantically searches for a fatal response, the more his mind gets foggy and unprecise. 

“Fuck you!” He yells after accepting he cannot come up with anything better. It's not a good comeback, in fact, it's so poor it's clearly the sign of a reluctant armistice. A confession that he cannot continue the fight, that he lost. He Tian knows it, and gives Guan Shan a triumphant smile, his eyes burning with cruel satisfaction.

Guan Shan's humiliation paints his face a deep shade of red, a fact that is not lost on He Tian, considering how the cruelty in his eyes sharpens. He looks like a victorious tyrant, and Guan Shan hates that look- HATES it.

“Okay. I'm done.” He says, voice tight, and without casting He Tian another glance, he stands up and leaves the room. He Tian doesn't follow him, doesn't call for him either as he reaches for the door.  
“Have a bad fucking life.” he says in the empty lobby, and he sincerely hopes his shivering voice reached He Tian. Then he slams the door and leaves.

When he finally gets home, he goes straight to the kitchen. He finds he isn't hungry enough for a sandwich, so instead, he empties a can of beer in the span of ten seconds and slumps on the tiled floor. God, he is shivering like a leaf. He needs to calm down. Take a shower, play guitar. That's his technique when things get too much. 

One hour later, he took a very aggressive shower, and he tried to play passionate Metallica covers on his guitar, but he is in the same fucking state. His whole nerve system in on fire. His heart is racing.

Guan Shan wants to go back here, to this guy's creepy fucking apartment, and punch him square in the jaw. He wants to anger him so much that he ends up breaking his stupid glass table to shards using only his fists. See him tremble with wrath, how this overwhelming feeling affects his whole body, how his eyes darken, how his face twists with rage, with bloodlust. He wants to see him torn with the irresistible desire to pin Guan Shan down and try to rip him apart. He wants to claw his broad back until he tears skin, until he can feel his fingernails dampen with the first pearls of blood-

Oh.  
Oh. Hello.

He is rock hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I never felt so betrayed." Guan Shan's sandwich.
> 
> So, Guan Shan ragequit.  
> But Guan Shan's sexual frustration entered the chat.
> 
> Hope you liked!  
> And don't worry, I promised slow burn, so they are eventually going to... burn ;)


	3. Of unanswered questions and satin pyjama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan thinks he's going to get beat up by She Li for disrespecting yet another client. He's wrong.  
> He's also sure that he would like nothing more than to see He Tian defeated.  
> He's wrong too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so grateful for your comments and kudos.  
> You're all so sweet, and this is my first fanfic, written in a language that's not my mother tongue, so I really need this kind of encouragement!  
> Thank you :)
> 
> I hope you'll continue to enjoy or begin to maybe?
> 
> I don't know.
> 
> Stay safe!

The next day, when he wakes up, it's to a mist of shame, post-coitus haze, and residual anger. He tried to fight off the urge to jerk off to this imaginary confrontation, but it came back each time he pushed it away, like the salty backwash of a wave. That led to a very agitated sleep, filled with dreams of big hands trying to hold him down, purple bruises blooming like rafflesias on his skin, blood drying under fingernails and feral snarls. Eventually, woken up at three in the morning by another too-vivid dream that bled into reality in the form of another fucking hard-on, he caved.

He still can't believe how good this was, touching himself thinking about this asshole. How, when he pressed his palm against his burning chest, when he let it travel down his body until it curled around his cock like a vine, he pictured the carnal details of the fantasy in all their raw purity. The arm he threw on his eyes created a blackness that was the perfect canvas for struggling bodies, for compact fists and pointy canines. His orgasm came as suddenly as his verbal defeat against He Tian, and in a similar way, it made his brain completely blank, while his body was penetrated by a pleasure so violent it felt like a punch in the guts.

He doesn't have any clients today, so he just spends his time trying to read a book, but he keeps reading the same line again and again because his mind is always dragged elsewhere, always kidnapped by bursting feelings that lead him either on the highway of arousal or the dark spiral of shameful fury. The words on the page don't hold any meaning, they are just a linear trajectory his eyes follow while he continues his inner turmoil. Clearly, his little jerk off session was only a temporary relief, and now Guan Shan feels as unsatisfied as before. So he still thinks about the what-ifs of this night, what he should have said or done, which only result in more anger, more arousal. Hypothesises accumulate in his brain and he cannot escape them, they are everywhere, they are here when he tries to ignore them and they are here when he gives attention to them. Fuck. Why is he getting obsessed?

At the end of the day, he gets up and leaves for Jacob's Ladder. It's Sunday, which only means one thing: a new weekly timetable. Except for new clients, who require unscheduled meetings, Guan Shan can have the merciful satisfaction of only seeing She Li once a week. 

When he comes in, he feels like he has eaten rocks. There is a solid heaviness at the pit of his stomach. She Li is going to be pissed. Clearly He Tian didn't pay for the whole night, maybe he didn't pay at all, and this absence is enough to tell She Li that Guan Shan misbehaved, that he still hasn't learned his lesson yet.  
God, this is the worst day. First, he jerked off to this stupid, mean client, and for some reason, the white pleasure of his orgasm didn't calm the burning sun that settled into his lungs. Second, that bitch She Li is going to do something bad to him, that's just a fact.

But, as soon as he sees him, She Li's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and, voice brimming with pride, he says:

“Oh, the prodigy kid is back! Hello, Guan Shan.”

He actually rises up from his chair and comes around his desk to put a hand on Guan Shan's shoulder. He looks down at him with a sugary satisfied look on his face, and it's disgusting. 

“What? Who's a prodigy now? What's happening?”

“Here, take a look.” 

She Li reaches for a paper on his desk and hands it to Guan Shan. Guan Shan looks at the schedule. Zheng Jie's and Li Sung's hours, respectively colored in purple and red, dot sporadically the paper. There is also a large green spot on Wednesday, indicating that he's going to see Tao Yang for a whole fucking afternoon, which is the absolute worst. But the dominating color is a dark blue, that eats up the whiteness in four, prolonged rectangles. He Tian's name is on them.

That can't be right.  
He Tian asked for him again. Four nights. Four _entire_ nights.

“Four nights!” She Li says, as he reads Guan Shan's bewildered expression. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you, redhead?”

“Yes. You made those feelings abundantly clear.” Guan Shan is too distracted to keep the ironic remark to escape his lips. Thankfully, She Li is also too distracted to react. He is probably picturing himself sleeping on his future money like a fairytale dragon.

He Tian wants to see him again. It should surprise him more than it does. But the surprise comes afterward, like a second thought. The first thing that invades him is an intuitive, almost subconscious understanding. Their fight did feel like a beginning, and this day had the taste of unfinished business for him as well, undoubtedly. Perhaps it obsesses He Tian too, perhaps he also feels unsatisfied, craving for more. Perhaps- Oh shit, did he jerk off too??

"Redhead, why are you making that face?"

Guan Shan doesn't exactly know what expression alerted She Li, but he quickly changes it to his usual frown, a curtain of slight annoyance. “Nothing! Just... how many hours did he pay for?”

“Thirteen. According to the amount of money he transferred, you left at eight a.m. Is that correct?”

No. “Huh- Sure, yeah, give or take.” She Li has all the surprised haughtiness of a man realizing the little, worthless object he held on for so long was in fact of great value. Guan Shan is going to be sick.

That night, Guan Shan struggles to find sleep. Anticipation makes him restless, his veins are full of sparkles. All the little scenarios that came to him become a possibility. There is a chance he'll make He Tian pay, that he'll fucking destroy him. A chance to see his smug smile transform in a humiliated pout. The thought of the fight getting physical horrifies him because he likes it, he likes it a lot, an atrocious trepidation settles in his heart and he can't bear it.  
But maybe He Tian doesn't want to fight? Maybe this second meeting has another purpose, enigmatic, secret, that Guan Shan will only discover as he sets foot in the apartment?  
A plea for forgiveness?  
A desire to start everything over?  
Or sex, simply? 

The different stories Guan Shan tells himself swirl around his head, and their circular motion lulls him to sleep. 

Two days later, he doorbell rings again. Muffled footsteps again. He Tian opens again. He is gorgeous again.  
They fight again.

The first thing He Tian says is “Wow, you look even more uptight than last time. Not afraid your expression is gonna freeze up like that?” and the first thing Guan Shan says is “Fuck, I swear there is something about you that creeps me out like nothing has before.” Neither of them remembers who talked first, but they end up fighting. They fight for the last word like stray dogs in a dark alley fight for a rotting piece of meat. He Tian, with his glacial slyness and Guan shan with his savage energy. They attack, defend, use the adversary's tactics, bite with irony, irritate with mock-concern, slash with menaces until Guan Shan loses a second time. He stayed in the ring for significantly longer, but He Tian has an impressive stamina when it comes to this. So, at one point, Guan Shan is muted again, by his anger, by his incapacity to respond, and he leaves.

The second night is the same. The pattern is followed again: tension, fight, and Guan Shan loses when anger strangles him, when he is so pissed off his voice cannot know anything but yells of fury and vague, by the book insults. He leaves, but when he gets home, the little green clock on his microwave gives him the satisfaction to know that he lasted even longer.

The third night, for the first time, he almost wins. There is a point, around midnight, where he says something about He Tian being a sinister shell of a shadow that took him off guard. He stood there, like a sleepwalker, in a sort of trance. But just when Guan Shan was going to crown himself, he counter-attacked with a sentence as swift as a whip, and Guan Shan, not prepared, fell so hard from his high that he couldn't get up.

Every time, he slams the door and goes home, and he feels exactly like the first time. He feels like he is a giant beehive, buzzing with fury. Then, by a mysterious alchemy, his anger morphs into desire, the line between bloodlust and lust dissipates, and he craves for his body, for his bruised, beaten body but his body nonetheless. In between the night, even with his other clients, he keeps thinking about what to do next, he elaborates techniques like a war tactician. Actually, it makes his afternoon with Tao Yang bearable, because he is miles away, constantly miles away. He is obsessed with the victory he doesn't possess yet. When he doesn't sleep, his insomnia isn't fueled with suffocating memories of his clients' sad life anymore, but the perpetual tension in his body, and how the only, ephemeral cure is masturbation.

He still wonders if He Tian does that too, if this what gets him off: the fight, the tension, the challenge. Does he also jerk off, thinking about Guan Shan? About their bodies colliding, about the sound skin makes on skin when a fist meets a cheek? Is this what this is about? Or is this the thrill of winning, of proving his worth against someone, a kind of misplaced superiority complex? If that's the case, Guan Shan is definitely going to make him lose. He's gonna beat him at his own narcissistic game. We'll see if he finds that arousing.

So, for the fourth night, Guan Shan is pumped up. He almost tasted victory last time, and even the premise of it was exquisite. Tonight, he wins. He's sure of that. It's the only logical progression: he keeps getting closer and closer, and tonight's the night he makes this asshole bite the dust. He's even ready to go down the road of physical violence, a road both of them carefully avoided the other times.

But when He Tian opens, his resolve shatters. He Tian already looks defeated. His hair is tousled in a way that is clearly not premeditated, his skin is pale, there is a purple-black halo under his eyes. His expression is neutral, or rather, it's not an expression, it's a complete absence of an expression, as if he was too tired to even move a muscle on his face.

In front of this unfamiliarity, Guan Shan gets the sudden, desperate need to go back to their usual dynamic. He wants the barely conceited rage, the rush of adrenalin that makes him dizzy. So, in front of this He Tian he doesn't recognize, he clumsily attempts to go back to their previous relationship with a crafted insult.

“Hey, you human-shaped piece of moist garbage.” Guan Shan tries as he comes in.

He Tian doesn't answer right away. His face tries to contort into his usual polite disdain, to reset the sense of competitivity there was before, but he lets go of the frail illusion very quickly. He goes back to his non-expression.

“I'm sorry. As it turns out, I'm not in the mood to play our little fighting game. You can go away.” His voice is very even and it strangely reminds Guan Shan of the constant beep made by a flat cardiogram when the patient dies. He doesn't like it at all.

“Don't worry, I'll pay for the whole night, as always. You can let yourself out. See you around, kid.” And with that flat remark, He Tian leaves the lobby.

Guan Shan could interpret that as a victory: He Tian admitted he wasn't strong enough to keep going. He asked him to go. However it's a forfeit, so he didn't win, he just didn't exactly lose. There is no glory, just a strange, uneasy feeling of disappointment. 

Guan Shan stares at the door. He could leave, he has his whole night free now. But he already knows that if he goes back, he'll end up making little theories again. And this time, it wont be an angry reenactment, but a sad remorse. He knows he's going to picture the guy's sulky face all night, and it's so unexplainable because he wanted to see it with a desperation he never knew he could have. For so many hours, he imagined it: He Tian's undone face, defeat, resignation, loss. But now he saw it and there it was both everything and nothing he wanted to see. If he goes home back now, then what? What will he do? Try to watch a movie? Read? Ask Jian Yi if he wants to hang out?  
He already knows what he will do. No matter what he chooses, he'll lock himself in his own mental prison, he'll keep wishing he stayed. He wants to stay. 

He stays.

He goes to the living room. He Tian is sitting there, on the grey couch, with his grey eyes starring into grey nothingness. He looks so out of place, like an object forgotten by someone a long time ago, faded by the passing of hours. He doesn't look at Guan Shan, even though he is clearly aware of his presence. He just opens his mouth to speak again.

“I said-”

“Can I try something?” Guan Shan asks cautiously.

He Tian eyes him. He looks suspicious for a few seconds, then tiredness takes over, drowns any distrust in a sea of numbness. He nods.

Under He Tian's gaze, as vertiginous as a black hole, he joins him on the couch, straddling his tighs. He keeps himself from sitting, knees supporting his weight on either side of He Tian's hips. with a slowness that is meant to be reassuring, he brings his hands into He Tian's hair.

“Listen, kid, if you're planning on giving me a lap dance, I- Oh.”

Guan Shan's fingers skillfully begin to rub his hair, just next to the temples, until they reach the spot above his nape. Then, they scrape his scalp in circles, slowly going up. He tries to maintain a firm pressure. His fingertips dig gently into the dark strands. He Tian exhales loudly, and as Guan Shan continues, he gradually leans his head until his forehead is resting against the middle of Guan Shan's chest. With this position, Guan Shan has more access, so his hands nimbly run in He Tian's hair, searching for all the good spots to press on and gently massage.

“Hmmm, keep going. It feels amazing, fuck...”

“Yeah?”

He Tian responds by a long hum that gradually becomes a whimper. Guan Shan keeps massaging his scalp, focussing on the spot behind the ears and moving up in a skilled motion. He explains absentmindedly:

“My mom is the kind of person who gets headaches all the time, so I used to do that a lot, back when we lived together.”

He doesn't know why he said it but He Tian seems to appreciate the sudden burst of confession. “You're close to her?” He asks, voice a bit warmer.

“As much as I can be.”

He Tian doesn't push the issue, he goes back to making quiet sighs and low hums, varying in intensity depending on where Guan Shan presses his fingers. Guan Shan feels like he is playing a particularly tricky instrument. But, unlike his guitar, which is an instrument of burning passion and rebellious anthems, this melody is calming, peacefully pleasant.

“So, what's up anyway?" He asks, after a few minutes. "Trouble in the banana bread factory?”

He Tian doesn't look up at him, but Guan Shan can feel the little twitch of his confused frown against his chest.

“That's what you said you did for a living, remember? When I tried to get to know you and you were being a piece of shit?”

“Ah, yes.”

For a moment, Guan Shan thinks He Tian isn't going to explain anything. When he does, the defeated tone of his voice is enough for Guan Shan to know that he doesn't really make this confession out of trust, but out of an overwhelming tiredness that makes every choice meaningless. He tells him because, in his crushing melancholy, too exhausted to even turn into real sadness, nothing seems to have a consequence.

“It's just, there is a man at my work. He's been working in the..... banana bread factory for a long time now. For longer than me. He taught me half the things I know.”

A loud exhale.

“And today I just found out he was a mole. Has been for three years. For another factory. And...”

Another loud exhale. Guan Shan feels a dampness on his shirt. Not wet enough to be tears but not dry enough to hide a sort of subdued sorrow.

“I knew him for so long. I trusted him. And I knew for a fact that there was a mole, I realized it ages ago, and I talked to him endlessly about it. We spent hours together trying to find out who it was. Funny, isn't it?”

No, it isn't, Guan Shan wants to say. Instead, he answers: “You know, I think we need to find another code name for your shady-ass job. Because I think “banana bread factory” is the dumbest shit anyone ever said. Ever.”

He isn't sure what path to take here, so he blindly reaches out by using his usual brand of sarcastic humor. It seems to work: He Tian chuckles, his shoulders shake and presses his face closer. Guan Shan keeps moving his hands in his hair, but the movement has more to do with a gentle caress than a soothing massage now.

“You know what you need? Confort food. Like, each time I'm feeling down, I make myself a sandwich. But not any sandwich, the final boss of all sandwiches. It's this super tasty thing with coriander, cha-lua, minced carrots and a spoonful of white vinegar- Why are you making that face?”

He Tian is looking up at him now. His mouth and nose are still against Guan Shan's chest, so the only visible part of his face is his eyes, which are wide with bafflement.

“Because there is an insane kid sitting on my lap, monologuing about sandwiches and I never thought this would happen to me. To anyone, really.” He answers, a little breathless.

Guan Shan realizes he is right: he is sitting on his lap now, butt pressing against his mid-thighs, and He Tian's hands, gently placed on his waist, hold him there.

“Ah- fuck off!” Guan Shan jumps out of the embrace and falls on the cushion next to them. He Tian lets him go. It's not very precise yet, but Guan Shan can see his presence came back. It's as elusive as the shadow of a fish under the aquamarine layer of seawater but it's there.

“Actually, getting food sounds like a good idea. Make me your final boss sandwich?” He gets up and extends his hand, clearly inviting Guan Shan to get up too. Guan Shan bats the hand away and gets up with a grumpy grunt.

“Wait, this is supposed to be your confort food, not mine.”

“I don't know mine yet. Let me borrow yours for tonight.”

Guan Shan wants to ask what kind of loser doesn't' know his own confort food, but the soft, self-deprecating look on He Tians face stops him. “Deal.”

During the entire evening, they fight again. Only, it's more like bickering now. Small remarks, pointy enough to sting but not to stab. The aim has changed. Guan Shan can't pinpoint the intent, the final purpose, but it's not to make the other livid with anger. As they eat Gan Shan's signature sandwich, yet again another part of him he never expected to share with a client, they quarrel with a form of bashfulness, carefully avoiding the words that hurt but still keeping an edge to their conversation. It's a strange little dance, almost a courting ritual, and although He Tian's eyes are still underlined with purple, he seems more and more like himself, minutes by minutes. Himself, that is to say an arrogant prick, as far as Guan Shan is concerned. 

After eating, He Tian gives him a challenging look. “So, you'll stay the night this time? Not gonna throw a temper tantrum?” It's the worst way to ask the question, but Guan Shan doesn't miss the uncertainty behind it. Doesn't miss the opportunity to use it as he accepts, either.

“Whatever, you cowardly old man.”

This is how Guan Shan finds himself in bed, under an avalanche of soft, plump covers, as lost as if he was in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, with only the stars to guide him. What now? He Tian lent him a shirt (ridiculously too big) and boxers, allowed him to take a shower in his disgustingly posh bathroom, and now he's in the shower, Guan Shan is in his room, and he hasn't a clue about the rest of the night.

Are they supposed to have sex now? Not that it will be anything new, but the thought of doing it with He Tian feels strange. He can't explain it, but it would feel out of place, uncharacteristic, like burning some stages, like consuming a poison he is not immune to yet. Each time he tries to consider it, there is an immaterial chain that holds his thoughts. This never happened to him before, and he tries to pinpoint what makes this so special. In a strange wavelength, it still feels like a beginning, but the beginning of what, Guan Shan can't fathom.  
But, Oh, God, what if it is like all the other nights? What if he wakes up with an impromptu erection? What if He Tian-

He Tian comes out of the bathroom and Guan Shan can't believe his eyes.

“What?” He Tian asks.

The guy is wearing a pyjama. An actual, blue satin pyjama, with long sleeves and little white buttons and matching pants. Like he is a sort of decadent aristocrat. This is the funniest shit Guan Shan has ever seen.

“Nothing” Guan Shan answers, eyes focusing on the elegant patterns of the blanket. Well, at least he won't have a problem with impromptu erections now.

He Tian settles to his side under the mattress. He doesn't turn the lamp on his bedside table. and, when he notices him staring, he simply explains “I'm afraid of the dark.” Guan Shan hums and maintains eye contact. Is he supposed to do something? Say something? He Tian keeps looking at him too.  
Then He Tian smiles, and Guan Shan realizes that his concealed arrogant smile is completely restored.

“What? Can't sleep? Do you need a bedtime story? Or your blankie?”

“Oh, fuck off, you senile jerk.” Guan Shan turns around, and, back facing He Tian, he closes his eyes. 

Just sleep then. Fine. Guan Shan is ready to bet that he sleeps in the weirdest positions, anyway. Maybe he sleeps like a vampire, with his hands crossed on his chest? That'll fit his little satin pyjama very well.... Oh lord, his pyjama. Even the word is hilarious. Guan Shan tries to suppress his laughter. He presses a hand to his lips but a few sounds still manage to escape. He tries to pass them off as coughing fit. Nailed it.

Suddenly, He Tian's hand reaches down on his body, fingers hovering just above his crotch. Guan Shan's heart stops. Is he initiating something? 

But then he feels the fingers twist the shit out of his balls.

“AAAH Shit! Why did you do that, you dick?” He sits up suddenly. He Tian is just laying here, a hand under his head, calm as a day of autumn.

“You think I can't hear you, making fun of my clothes? In my own bed?” He Tian asks.

Guan Shan stares at him, dismayed. Did he read his mind?

“And before you ask, no, I don't read minds. You're just being very transparent. Good night.”

Guan Shan dramatically falls on his back. His pain is already subsiding but his bruised ego still throbs. An angry flow of words come to his mouth like bile and he lets them escape, too angry to care. “Piece of shit asshole with your lame-ass pyjamas... Who the fuck wears pyjamas anyway? Are you an old man from the 18th century? It's fucking creepy, okay, like serial-killer creepy. I swear even Hannibal fucking Lecter would be disgusted by your clothes. Like, he would look at you and he'd throw up, he'd legit barf everywhere. And everybody would be like “What's wrong, Hannibal Lecter?” and he'll be like- ”

He is interrupted by a light snore. He looks over. He Tian is asleep. He has a relieved expression on his face as if Guan Shan's nonsensical angry rants were the softest lullaby he ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to canon He Tian's pjs, which are...  
> they just are the best.
> 
> Also, the next chapter will (probably) feature our boi Jian Yi ;)


	4. Of movie references and first gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan is trying to understand himself and it's hard.
> 
> Jian Yi doesn't help.
> 
> He Tian doesn't help AT ALL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I am so very grateful for all of you who like and comment.  
> It's very pleasing to see and I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you all like my work  
> Seriously, I did not expect som many readers I am blessed by each one of you  
> <3
> 
> I'll keep going!  
> Sorry for the time between chapters, by the way, I can't promise It will be consistent.

Guan Shan is not listening to him at all, Jian Yi can tell. It has become surprisingly easy for him to make the difference between Guan Shan's fake indifference and his authentic lethargy. Right now, it's obviously the second case: Guan Shan's eyes are fixated on him without staring at him, and his pale hands distractedly rip the paper napkin of the fast-food restaurant to tiny shreds, a small artificial snow dotting the table.  
How dare he? Jian Yi is an exceptional conversationalist.

“Hello! Earth to Mo Guan Shan!”

Guan Shan comes out of his trance and looks at him as if surprised to find him sitting here. Then, probably in a fruitless effort to put up a front of nonchalance, he casually reaches for a French fry and begins to nibble on it. 

“What?” He grumbles. “I'm fucking listening.”

“Oh, I doubt it. I've been talking about the eerie similitudes between my last client's dick and George Washington for ten minutes and you didn't react once.”

The half-nibbled fry falls on the table. Guan Shan, eyes wides as saucers, seems to have difficulty processing his words. “You've... been talking about WHAT.”

“I knew it!” Jian Yi yelps, pointing a salt-studded finger towards Guan Shan. “You're not listening at all!”

Guan Shan lets out an irritated grunt. “Yeah, okay, fine, it's just...”

He scratches his head, embarrassed. Searching for words. Jian Yi, studies the movement closely because he never saw Guan Shan like that before. It's like seeing a cat bark. “Jian Yi, can I ask you something?”

“I'm all ears, reddie.”

“First of all, do not call me that. Second... Did you have a client that you just hate, I mean you loathe him...”

So far, it's relatable. “Hu-huh.”

“And you fight, you know, each time he calls for you, and you keep wanting to punch him in the face, you want it like you never wanted anything before, it burns inside you like a volcano, you picture it non-stop...”

Less relatable. “Hu-huh....”

“But then one time you come to his place and he looks weepy as fuck. So you feel sad for the guy and you give him a head massage, and after that, you both try to get back to the fighting but it feels... different? Like you don't fight to annoy each other to death, but for something else?”

“...”

“And then you go to bed with him but he doesn't fuck you, he just pinches your balls because you made fun of his pyjama, and then he falls asleep listening to your very constructive criticism about said pyjama.”

Guan Shan looks at Jian Yi expectantly, as if there was something to be understood of that story, but only from an outsider perspective. The kind of meaning that's only gained with distance and disinterest. An explanation coming from outside, from someone far enough to see the whole picture. So, somehow, he seems to hope that Jian Yi detains the key of this whole imbroglio. But Jian Yi doesn't. He is key-less.  
Because this story is batshit crazy.

“I'm sorry, what is the situation here??”

Disappointment grazes Guan Shan's features. “Look, dude, I can't dumb it down more than I already have.”

Jian Yi snorts.“Oh yeah, I bet you can't.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Red. Red. This is the weirdest story I ever heard. It doesn't make any sense, okay. I'm seriously considering contacting a mental hospital, right now.”

Guan Shan gives him a look, probably supposed to be resentful but ultimately makes him look like a lost puppy. Jian Yi takes pity on him. He tries to analyze the situation. But he can't quite wrap his head around it. Something is resisting, some factors are completely hermetic. What does the client want? Does he just want company? But then why would he call Guan Shan again, Guan Shan who can't hide his anger, who never tried to mask his hostility when it gets too intense for him? Guan Shan who knows how to be very unlikeable, and who uses this power on every client he loathed? But this Guan Shan is apparently the one the client wants to see. What, is he a masochist? But he was the one doing the balls-pinching thing... Maybe if he gets other pieces of information, he'll be able to complete the puzzle.

“In the morning, how was he? Did he say anything?”

“He woke me up at six in the fucking morning, all clothed and shaved and stuff, and he told me he needed to leave for work, so I had to leave too. He offered to drive me home but there is no way I'll let that creep know where I live so he drove me to a metro station and he said some stupid ambiguous thing like _See you very soon, kiddo_. ” Guan Shan imitates the voice of this man with the same childishness a kid use to mimic an adult: it's comically low, a ridiculously deep tone that strangles half the words.

“Kiddo? How old is this dude?”

“Thirty-ish.”

“Good-looking?” 

“Oh, very.” Guan Shan spits the compliment with a satisfied grin as if it was the meanest insult he could think of.

Jian Yi tries again to understand, but again the puzzle is incomplete. He can make drafts of conclusions, but they remain incomplete, unsatisfying.

“This doesn't make any sense.”

“I knew it! Fuck. I don't understand. We get so mad at each other and were ready to rip each other's throat but somehow after the massage, we just went to bed and he didn't try anything, it was just plain awkward.”

Suddenly, a new, obvious question comes in Jian Yi's mind. What does Guan Shan want? Why does this story affect him so much? He could just let it go, classify it as another strange dude with some weird kink, but he doesn't. This story is bothering him. Is he upset because they didn't fight? Or is he...

“You're mad because you guys didn't fuck?”

“I don't want to fuck him!” Guan Shan says forcefully. He balls his hands into fists on the table “I want to tear his face off, okay! I want... I want..”

Guan Shan looks at his balled fists, transfixed. “I want to get him on his knees, I want to make him beg for mercy. I want to scratch him everywhere, step all over him and triumphantly sit on his unconscious body.”

Bewilderment and amusement assault Jian Yi at the same time, so he makes a surprised, joyful little squeal. “You HAD to know how sexual that sounded.”

“What the fuck?”

“Red, what you said was half angry cat and half horny power bottom.”

“Jian Yi, what...”

“You literally said you wanted to sit on him.”

“Not like that! Ugh!”

Guan Shan crosses his arms on the table and buries his face in the little nest they created. 

“I just don't get our relationship, man. I don't get what's happening at all.”

Jian Yi can see that clearly. Guan Shan was always the kind of guy who made up his mind really quickly about the situation he was in. He always chose the pessimistic lense; he always considered his clients as the receptacles of an almost insulting loneliness. Where Jian Yi can sometimes hesitate over what to think about clients, and even leans towards finding them touching, Guan Shan has an unchanged resolve. His mind was never shivering with hesitation.  
Until today.  
Today he clearly can't land on an opinion. He keeps trying, but his thoughts, like hands trying to hold on to a burning plate, keep changing angles, trying new positions, but they are always burned the same way.  
Guan Shan is boiling inside, and Jian Yi wouldn't believe it if he didn't see it with his own two eyes.

Suddenly, a lightbulb turns on in his brain. “Is he Pretty Woman-ing you?”

Guan Shan raises his head and looks at him, face completely blank. Jian Yi continues: “You know, Pretty Woman! The movie? Julia Roberts is a prostitute, a redhead with an attitude, and Richard Gere is a cynical businessman who wants company for the night. But little did they know, cupid has plans for both of them-”

“Jian Yi, stop it! Cupid has plans of neither of us, okay! I just want to kick him in the dick...”

“No, you're right, cupid is too busy taking care of me and Xixi !”

Guan Shan seems eager to change the subject. “Zhan Zheng Xi?” He asks, strategically aiming for Jian Yi's favorite subject. It works, because each time Jian Yi hears this name, it's like a valve goes off and words pour out endlessly.

“He is so... he is... Oh god, he is the kind of man mermaids sing about... He is the kind of ephebos beauty that inspired Antic sculptors... He's the chocolate cake of people... The human equivalent of a lighthouse, tall, reassuring, helping the lost souls to find their way into the scary sea...”

Guan Shan covers his ears. “Gross! Id' rather hear you talk about that disgusting George Washington shaped cock than hear this shit.”

Jian Yi also knows how to decipher Guan Shan's convoluted requests when he hears them.

“Sure, we can go back to that if you want to.”

But two days after, on a Sunday afternoon, Jian Yi's mind is full of Zhan Zheng Xi again. He remembers the policeman, his chestnut hair, a gentle calmness on his features. He has this kind of easily overlooked quality, a simpleness that people interpret as a form of boring shyness. But Jian Yi sees, hears, his silence is a way to make his words more resounding when he speaks, the even blue of his eyes, so similar to apathy, are in fact the signs of a strength Jian Yi can only dream about. He is gentle, loyal, quiet, all these compliments that describe a gentleman of the 18th century, all these compliments that today sound old, dusty, maybe even a little condescending.  
But Jian Yi was never really a man of his time, and he dreams endlessly about this dashing policeman as he dreamed about young Jane Austen bachelors, their silence rich with passion and their calm, severe face hiding the most poetic soul.  
But he knows: why would he care for a whore he saved from a violent client in one of his night patrols? He is made for a decent, normal family. A wife who doesn't constantly trip on her own feet or drool in her sleep like Jian Yi does, a wife who can give him a stable situation and two beautiful kids like Jian Yi can't.

He is so engrossed in his little fantasy, alternating tragic, Shakespearian endings with happy, triumphant ones that he doesn't feel his phone vibrate until the 8th time. Annoyed, he looks at the screen. It's Redhead.

**Redhead:  
Jian Yi  
Jian Yi  
Jian Yi  
Dickhead  
Jian Yi  
Jian Yi  
Sorry for calling you dickhead please respond  
Jian Yi**

**Jian Yi :What?**

**Redhead: It's the annoying client I talked to you about.**

**Jian Yi: Richard Gere? What about him.**

**Redhead: He wants to see me every night. For the whole week.**

**Jian Yi: For real ?**

**Redhead: Yeah. What do I do?**

**Jian Yi: You take his credit card and go shopping. Then you go to a polo match with him.**

**Redhead: ...Is that a fucking Pretty Woman reference?**

**Jian Yi: You know it baby ;)**

**Redhead: You're useless**

**Jian Yi: :)**

**Redhead: >:(**

**Jian Yi: Hey, this smiley looks exactly like you!**

He waits for an answer but his phone remains still in his hands. Guan Shan is either mad at him or too lost to respond, and in either case, Jian Yi feels guilty. Okay, maybe it's time to reassure Redhead.

**Jian Yi: Look, just breathe, okay.  
Don't punch that guy anywhere.  
Like, what can happen?  
Either you guys don't fight and the tension will eventually wear off.  
Either you do and the tension will also wear off.  
In any case it'll be ok.  
At the end of the day you'll make money and at one point you won't think about it anymore.**

**Redhead: Yeah?**

**Jian Yi: Sure.  
Or maybe you'll come out of the denial stage and realise you want to fuck a client.  
Nothing wrong with that.  
Been here done that. **

He waits for a few minutes. Nothing.

**Jian Yi: Red?**

**Redhead: This conversation is over.**

**Jian Yi: :(**

**Redhead: >:(**

Jian Yi smirks, the dark reflection of his screen phone gives to his expression a form of malice he hopes he doesn't possess. Oh, redhead is definitely being Pretty Woman-ed.

Guan Shan is NOT being Pretty Woman-ed. He is being harassed by a sociopath with questionable taste in night clothing and a frighteningly symmetrical face.

He can't deny the fact that part of him was reassured when he discovered He Tian filled his schedule so much that the only other client he had to meet is Zhang Jie, and only twice. He expected She Li to make a big deal out of it again, to look at him proud as a rooster, but he had a strangely suspicious expression that bordered on bitterness. Guan Shan hopes he never sees that expression again.  
He tries to empty his mind of any possible scenarios. After all, Jian Yi is right. No matter the path they choose, in the end, he'll just have more money, and, eventually, He Tian will stop bothering him. That's a certain expectation.

But when the door opens, something happens that he doesn't expect: he is aggressively greeted by a huge cardboard box, almost the size of his body, being thrown at him.

“What the fuck? Can't you say hello like a normal human being?” He angrily throws the box back on the wall. It weightlessly falls on the floor.

“Hello.” He Tian considers him with his typical smirk. Hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted, he is the embodiment of smugness and arrogance.

“What the fuck is this, why are you throwing garbage at my face?” Guan Shan says while furiously taking off his coat.

“It's not garbage. It's a gift. From me to you.”

Guan Shan's abrupt movements stop.

“A gift?”

“Yes.”

Guan Shan considers the box, not sure what to do. Is this a trap? He shouldn't open it. But he always was a curious creature. And it's so big, certainly what's inside is enormous. And who are we kidding, size matters. But that means that if it's a trap, it's also a big one-

“It's not the box, by the way. It's what's inside.” Says He Tian, chuckling at himself at Guan Shan's hesitation.

“Oh, you don't say.” Guan Shan grumbles. He crouches on the floor and begins to tear the box apart. What is this? First, he sees the color, a beige with hints of yellow, then the texture, a soft, pillow-like fabric. But oh, there are different colors on the side, green, red,-

It's a sandwich plushie. A gigantic sandwich plushie. 

He looks up at He Tian. He is still smiling, and Guan Shan feels like he is being played again. Fine then, if He Tian wants to rouse him up, he won't let it happen. That'll teach him. Can't play a game if there is only one player after all.

“Thanks, it looks very comfy.” He says, trying to sound as grateful as possible.

He lays his stomach against the plushie and, propped up on his elbows, chin in his hands, gives a revengeful grin. He expects He Tian to be crestfallen by how his little game fell flat, but, at the sight of Guan Shan on the sandwich plushie, his grin gets wider, softer. It crinkles his eyes a little bit, and he looks affectionate in a way that makes Guan Shan look away.

Fuck. What was that.  
Wait, was it really supposed to be a gift? A real one? Not a prop for a practical joke? But it's so ridiculous....

“I'm glad you like it, Mo-zai” He Tian extends his hand.

“The fuck you called me ??” Guan Shan bats his hand away and makes a show of getting up on his own.

He Tian gives that smug, one-shouldered shrug. “Mo-zai. My new nickname for you. Consider it a second gift.”

Guan Shan wants to find enough rebellion in him to argue but finds he doesn't really mind. He has been called worse after all.

“Whatever.”

Silence. They consider each other. Guan Shan feels a certain embarrassment, not unlike the first time he was here. He Tian, when silent, is as unreadable as a hieroglyph.

“So.”

“So...”

“Cook for me? I bought ingredients.”

As soon as they set foot in the kitchen, Guan Shan realizes that when He Tian said he bought ingredients, he meant all the ingredients in the fucking world. The counter is half-filled with varieties of spices, some pastel-colored, some a deep, dry green. A huge crystal bowl is bursting with fruits of all shapes. There is a whole store inside his refrigerator. It's full to the brink: green salad, meat ranging from the soft pinkness of fish to the raw redness of beef, bottles of different sauces, eggs, pre-made dumplings, colorful vegetables... It's enough to eat for a month.

“Do you have enough?” He Tian asks this in a concerned tone, but it's obviously a rhetorical question.

“Sure” Guan Shan answers breathlessly.

He begins to fumble around. With each ingredient, recipes come to his mind. He is about to reach for chicken when a sudden thought comes to his mind.

“Any allergies? Just so I don't kill you accidentally.”

“You think I'm stupid enough to buy something I'm allergic to?”

“God, yeah. Absolutely.”

They fall back into their new routine during dinner. They gently bicker the moments away, in this tentative dance. When the plates are empty, Guan Shan's nervousness suddenly emerges, which makes him realize he wasn't nervous before, that he was in fact relatively relaxed, but this kind of casual relaxation you only notice when it's gone, just like a lamp being suddenly turned off makes you realize the previous light it held.  
He is nervous because He Tian, while watching him clean up, and of course not helping him at all, fell back into his unreadable silence. What is he planning to do, now? Are they gonna bicker again? Maybe Guan Shan should say something to get their “fighting game” going...  
He was going to say something very clever about He Tian being a lazy pathetic loser who doesn't know how to clean but He Tian gets up abruptly, and gestures Guan Shan to follow him. He leads them to the living room and makes them sit on the sofa. Then he looks into Guan Shan's slightly suspicious eyes and says:

“What do you want to do?”

That's new. Not the formulation, but the intent. Some clients are polite enough to ask, but it's a question shaped like a Trojan horse: a gift with secret intent. It's only a half question, with an awaited answer. Whatever you want. This is what I want to do.  
But He Tian didn't ask it this way. It's fully open, with a plain form of curiosity with no afterthoughts. And, for the first time, Guan Shan has to find the answer in himself. But he doesn't find it, because he was never really given free will like that before. He feels like a virgin who has just been asked what his favorite sexual position is. Should it scare him? That knowing what to want is such an alien concept to him? People are supposed to know. but right here, on this grey sofa, Guan Shan hasn't a clue. Remorse claws his loins, for reasons he doesn't understand. He regrets being this person, this man who hasn't learned to understand himself, to know what to do. He who mocked He Tian's emptiness, is he really an entire person? Panic starts to rise and Guan Shan is completely muted y it.

“....”

“I mean, if you were home, what would you do right now?” He Tian asks. Clearly, he sensed his growing distress and turned the question around to make it less overwhelming. It works, Guan Shan has an answer as quick as a physical reflex. 

“Play guitar.” He answers, and relief fills him instantly. That's not much, but that's something to holding too.

“You do?”

He Tian reaches for his hand and begins to stroke the tip of his fingers.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Checking your callouses.”

He Tian presses a little bit harder, his fingers still playing with Guan Shan's, their hand almost intertwined. He goes from the center of the palm to the fingertips, stroking each phalange with a focused gentleness. Guan Shan can't suppress goosebumps from booming all over his skin. “Wow, they are nice and firm.” He Tian comments.

“Shut up.”

He Tian lets go, but with a slowness suggesting a form of reluctance. What is happening?

“What kind of guitar do you play?”

Guan Shan scoffs. “As if you know the difference.”

“Well, I might if you tell me.”

This is how Guan Shan ends up talking about music for a long time, which is not at all how he envisaged this night to go. But He Tian seems genuinely interested. He keeps asking more questions, most of them asked in a slightly condescending mockery because he is still an asshole after all. But with each answer he nods, looking more and more seated. He Tian remains very elusive when Guan Shan tries to ask him clumsy questions about him. Clearly his previous burst of melancholic honesty has vanished. The only thing he gets from their conversation is that He Tian, in regards to music, has the selection of someone with actual good taste but who never searched past the obvious, already consecrated artists. When he discovers that, he suddenly wants to make him listen to the artists he likes, but he abandons this feeling very quickly. He Tian is a client, not a friend. And Guan Shan is sure he is not really interested in him either, he is just probably bored of thinking about himself.  
He doesn't make any moves either. At one point, he rests his arm on the sofa's back pillows, just behind Guan Shan's head, almost embracing him by the shoulders, and Guan Shan's mind lights up with a feeling he can't quite identify, close to joy but spiky as panic. He waits for He Tian to lean in, or to initiate a sort of psychical contact, but it never comes. The strange, joy-with-spikes feeling intensifies as time passes.

Around midnight, they are both frozen in the same moment, and Guan Shan has difficulty keeping up the conversation. The feeling only increased, and now it weighs on his tongue, it wraps his mind in a fog. He is not used to this. He tries to registers He Tian's words to him but he keeps coming back to the arm that's not touching him, to the fight they are not having anymore, to trying to distinguish want from fear, eroticism from aggressivity.  
He Tian must have noticed his wandering because after a while he asks, irony curling around his words:

“You tired already? Kids, this day, no stamina at all.”

“Shut up grandpa.”

He Tian chuckles and ruffles his hair in a way that can only be either tenderness or bullying. “Come, I'll lend you some clothes.”

But, in the bathroom, there is a folded pile of clothes next to the bathroom sink. SATIN clothes.

“What is that?” Guan Shan asks. But he knows what it is. He knows.

“The clothes I lend you to sleep in.” He doesn't want to look at He Tian but somehow he still sees the little smile, the brimming pride.

“What? No.”

“Oh, yes. Unless you'd rather sleep naked?”

Guan Shan stares at the pyjama, as if it will dissolve if he keeps his eyes on it long enough. He can't wear that. He'll never have the same street cred again. 

“I'll be charitable. You only have to wear the top.” He Tian takes the folded pants, smiling at Guan Shan with an exaggerated benevolence, and he leaves.

Damn it. Guan Shan can't say if this is better or worse. At least he gets to keep his boxers, right?  
He wants to cry.  
Why did he do to deserve this?  
He contemplates tearing the fabric apart but He Tian might ask him to repay him, and that's absolutely out of the question. Even the thought of it is unbearable.

So he puts it on, and he HATES it.  
Because it feels like being hugged by an angel. It feels like being grazed by petal flowers. It feels like it's made in the very fabric peacefulness is made of, and just wearing it makes Guan Shan contentedly sleepy. Why is it so soft? What the fuck? And it's perfectly warm, too- No. No, shit.

Goodbye, street cred.

Defeated, Guan Shan comes out of the bathroom. He expects the cold air to curl around his legs and make him shiver, but this penthouse just surrounds him with a comfortable heat. Well, that's one thing at least. He spots the bastard on the bed, reading something on his phone.  
He Tian's confident curl of lips drops as soon as he glances at Guan Shan. For a handful of dumbstruck seconds, he just stares, with the same surprised, not-painful-yet-but-I'm-getting-there expression of someone who was just stung by a bee. Then he gets up and, in a silent brisk walk, he goes to the bathroom and abruptly closes it behind him.

What the fuck?  
Did he realize how ridiculous this fucking satin shit is? Well, good for him.

Guan Shan lays back, expecting to be assaulted by uncertainties again, but he keeps dozing off. Damn this satin shit. Guan Shan didn't want to become a satin-loving monster. Fuck. Also, he feels worn out. constantly battling panic and insecurity is hard, and he really wants to sleep now.

The sound of a door closing startles him awake. He Tian comes in the bedroom and he is wearing the bottom pyjama that's supposed to match with the atrocity Guan Shan is wearing. But just that. His torso is completely bare.

And it's objectively the most perfectly sculpted chest one can imagine. It's not exaggerated, superhero muscles, round bulges stretching the skin, no, its nice, elegant, long muscles. Muscles of hardened gracefulness. He is made of curved lines, of elongated muscles. Combined with his height, his physique looks almost unreal, perfectly proportionate on his own but out of proportions in the normal-sized world. Whoa, his biceps might be the size of Guan Shan's head if he flexes. He should flex. Just for science, you know.

"See something you like?" He Tian asks with a narcissistic smile while settling down next to Guan Shan. Shit.

Guan Shan turns around, back facing He Tian now. "Not really. Just an old man wearing half of the most ridiculous pajama I have ever seen."

"You're my other half, you know." He hears He Tian say, and he knows he is referring to the pyjama but WHAT THE FUCK.

"Can you please not phrase it this way? It gives me the creeps." He looks above his shoulder. He Tian has the same eye-crinkling smile full of fondness.

"Alright, alright." He answers.

Then he lays down completely and keeps looking at him. And Guan Shan can clearly see an intent in his grey irises, but he turns around before figuring out what it is.  
Guan Shan is suddenly overwhelmed by panic, yet again, for reasons he cannot explain. There is something about this situation that completely eludes him, and he doesn't want to face it. He takes the obvious way-out : tiredness.

“I'll admit. It's pretty comfortable. I'll sleep well. Good night.”

He Tian answers with a low hum. Then Guan Shan hears him shift and feels his breath on his nape. He's close, he's spooning him without touching him. Their skins are not in contact, but their body heat are touching: he feels, from his head to his feet, an immaterial, warm embrace, only broken by the fresh caress of quiet exhales at the back of his neck.

“This is even more comfortable, right, Mo-zai?” He Tian murmurs. Guan Shan shivers as the words cast a cold wind against his neck.

“Maybe for you, old man.” Guan Shan answers but his heart is not in the insulting comment.  
His heart is somewhere else, and Guan Shan feels like, wherever it is, he cannot completely get it back.


	5. Of sunny side ups and crossroad lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He Tian is extra annoying today. So Guan Shan does the logical thing: he tackles him to the ground.
> 
> Let's just say it backfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: **comes through your bedroom window as you sleep peacefully.**
> 
> Me: **Gently puts the new chapter on your nightstand.**
> 
> Me: **Comes closer to your sleeping body and whispers softly in your ear.**
> 
> Me: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME YOU ARE THE BEST LOVE YOU
> 
> Me: **Quietly leaves**  
> .

“Mo-zai.”

A poke on his cheek.  
The sounds of butter melting in the frying pan.

“Mooooo-zaiiiii.”

Poke.  
The smooth shell of the egg shattering as it cracks on the side of the pan.

“What?”

He Tian lets his finger hang in the air like a frozen hornet before he, once again, plants it in Guan Shan's cheek, right at the moment where the egg falls on the pan with a hissing noise.

“Mo-zai!!”

Guan Shan turns his gaze from the egg, yolk perfectly preserved, the transparent substance already whitening around it, and glares at He Tian.

“What? I'm fucking listening, so what the fuck do you want?”

He Tian, that bastard, has the audacity to pout. “Don't be so rude or I won't tell.”

“Fine, then, don't. You think I fucking care?” Guan Shan groans as he reaches for a second egg and skillfully cracks it with the side of the pan. 

Poke. 

“Mo-zai?”

This time, the poking was aimed for his sides, which takes Guan Shan by surprise, so his startled hands separate the shell earlier than intended, and the egg falls from too high. Guan Shan, disheartened, stares at the ruined egg: the yolk is pierced and a warm orange spills on the white. Fuck.

“Shit! This egg is for you!” He angrily replies.

He Tian chuckles. “Okay, Mo-zai.” Then he gives Guan Shan's shoulder a light nudge.

Dear Gods in heaven, when will it end?

Since the moment they woke up, He Tian hasn't been anything but a nuisance. Actually, since the moment they met, He Tian has been anything but a nuisance, but today takes the fucking cake. Guan Shan was woken up by a pinch on the cheek, and, when He Tian drove him to the metro station, he kept nudging him on the shoulder or trying to rub his nape with his cold fingertips. And tonight, as soon as Guan Shan set foot in his apartment again, it has been nothing but constant touches, minimal and persistent as insect bites. Small things, gentle twists of the skin, poking fingers, grazing of shoulders.  
He Tian spent all their time together touching Guan Shan, and what he loses in quality, he largely makes up for it in quantity. The attempts don't last more than a second before Guan Shan lashes out and puts himself beyond reach, but they are endless, always renewed, always eager to make contact, even for the small crumb of a second. Guan Shan feels trapped in a swarm of bees.  
What happened to peace?  
Peace is a real thing, right? Guan Shan didn't make that shit up?

Pushing He Tian away with his shoulder, Guan Shan slides the cooked eggs on bowls full of seasoned rice and takes his, with the perfect, round, unaltered yolk resting on top like a setting sun. He leaves He Tian's behind as he heads for the living room. He Tian follows, carrying his own bowl, rice covered by Guan Shan's failed attempt at a sunny side up, as prideful as a king carrying a diamond.

Guan Shan settles on his chair and, without even waiting for He Tian to do the same, starts eating.

“Why are you so fucking annoying today?” He asks after the first bite.

“What do you mean?” He Tian replies as he takes a seat in front of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan points his chopsticks at him, and, with an accusing frown, he angrily responds: “I mean: why are you acting like you've never heard of personal space?”

He Tian grins and gets up. He takes his chair with one hand, his bowl in the other and, under Guan Shan's skeptical gaze, he walks around the table. Then, he puts the bowl down centimeters away from Guan Shan's, his chair down next to Guan Shan's and sits. In this new disposition, they are so close that their shoulders are permanently touching. Their knees would be too, if Guan Shan didn't shift is legs as far from He Tian as possible. 

“Personal what?” Asks He Tian, leaning in like the Pise tower.

Wow.  
So he is that dedicated to be the most frustrating person Guan shan has ever had the displeasure of knowing. Nice.  
Guan Shan doesn't reply. Instead, he focuses back on his food. The fried rice came up nicely, with hints of spice given by the Asian chili paste, only smoothed by the tender greenness of peas and Chinese leeks. Maybe next time, he could try to use a little bit of rice wine vinegar, to emphasize the subtle accents of sweetness-

“Mo-zai.”

Poke.

No. Don't give him your attention, it's just what he wants. Focus back on what you were thinking. Rice wine vinegar, maybe less ginger-

“Come on, Mo-zai, talk to me.”

Poke.

Fuck. Why did he even try? He's terrible at ignoring things bugging him.  
Sorry, nice thoughts about recipes. This is angry yelling time again.

Guan Shan abruptly catches the finger about to dig into his cheek and twists, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to sting. “Talk to yourself, since you like talking so much. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Okay.”

He Tian clears his throat and straightens his back as if he was getting ready to make an official speech. He takes his chopsticks in hand and announces, with a pensive voice: “There is an angry redhead sitting next to me. He looks like a ball of red fluff, I should probably pet his head and take him on a walk to calm his nerves. Maybe buy him a nice little treat-”

A foot kicking him in the heel interrupts his rant. “What the hell?” Guan Shan asks as He Tian makes a pained little sound. “Are you comparing me to a dog?”

He Tian looks at him, eyes wide and mouth half-open, and he slowly, dramatically, brings his hand to his mouth. “You can talk, puppy?”

“What? You're a dog! Everything about you is dog-like, especially your smell!” Guan Shan replies, kicking the foot of his chair in an attempt to destabilize him.

He Tian studies him silently, a quiet, tranquil smile forming on his lips, before he adds: “You're right, you're more like a cat.”

He lifts his hand, clearly attempting to touch Guan Shan in some minimal, annoying way, but Guan Shan catches his wrist before something happens.

“Aw, don't be like that, I just want to hear you purr.” He liberates his wrist with a swift movement and resumes eating.

“As if you could. Nobody can.” Guan Shan contemplates on what he just said and adds, for no reason he can properly understand: “Except my mom, maybe.”

He Tian has a low chuckle, and his eyes do the affectionate-wrinkly thing again. “Mama's boy.”

Guan Shan huffs, taking some rice between his chopsticks. “You think I will get offended by that? My mom is the best, okay? She deserves to be loved.”

“And your father? ”

The rice falls back in the bowl.  
Guan Shan can't talk about his father. Even if he wanted to, if he really were to give it a try, he would only be able to talk about himself. Him thinking about what he would say to his dad when he sees him, and what would his dad respond, and then knowing that this particular scene he created in his mind won't happen, because reality is not scripted. Him wondering endlessly if prison beds are cold, if they get enough heat in winter. Him watching documentaries about life in prison, allegedly to reassure himself, although he knows it doesn't work. Him waking up in the middle of the night because he dreamt of prison bars, of unattentive guards, of resentful cellmates, of knives hidden in low-quality mattresses.

“I don't have anything to say about him. Not to you.” He answers bitterly.

He Tian's smile drops. He just answers a quiet “Okay.”

No other sounds come after that, except the jingling of chopsticks against the ceramic, or the muffled sounds of food being eaten.  
Shit. As often when Guan Shan's temper comes down, it unveils how cruel his words were.  
He feels guilty.  
His response sounded venomous, and He Tian didn't deserve that. He was only making conversation.  
It's unfair to him, and if Guan Shan despise unfairness, he should admit when he is the one who originated it. He should probably say something. Maybe something less official than an apology, but still holding a sense of responsibility. Hmm-

Poke.

He turns his head. He Tian looks at him with a challenging smile, finger still up.  
That fucking bastard.  
Can't he see that Guan Shan is not in the fucking mood?

“He Tian, seriously, stop. This is fucking annoying.”

Poke.

“He Tian, I am not kidding!”

He catches He Tian's finger just before it touches the tender flesh of his right cheek. Yet again. When Guan Shan already made clear he didn't want it.

Does it matter so little to He Tian? What Guan Shan wants, what he doesn't? Was Guan Shan right on the first night? Could He Tian be, in fact, the person Guan Shan fears him to be? An asshole, a rich boy who ran out of toys?  
As it always did, anger blossoms furiously, pooling rapidly into his veins, the quickest type of poison. It clouds his mind again, it doesn't leave much place to afterthoughts, there is just one side of the gesture that Guan Shan can understand, or at least thinks he understands, and that's humiliation. And that's the very thing Guan Shan fears, he fears it so much that he sometimes imagines it where it's not, and even in those cases, he always counter-attacks.

So Guan Shan does the most natural thing that comes to him at the moment. He jumps him.  
The surprise factor works in his favor, because He Tian is too startled to properly react, and they both fall down on the floor, Guan Shan on top. He tries to punch He Tian in the face as quickly as possible but as soon as his hand turns into a fist, He Tian catches his wists and switches their positions around abruptly.  
He isn't gentle about it, on the contrary, he makes sure the reversal of positions is as painful as possible, and Guan Shan's back dully hurts after being slammed against the floor, while his wrists throb under He Tian's grip. 

“What was that?” He Tian asks, clearly annoyed. And annoyance is something else on him, it's very clear that it can be lethal if pushed too far.

“I told you to stop! But clearly words don't work with that thick skull of yours!!” The words take He Tian aback and his grip loses. Guan Shan uses this opportunity to free his hands, but He Tian catches them again. He does manage to scratch the fucker below the right eye. Not enough to make it bleed, but he felt skin under his fingernails so it must have hurt a little bit. Guan Shan will take it.

“Oh, so you want to try that instead? Think you'll have the upper hand, really?” Taunt is in his voice but there is also a very opened, almost amazed curiosity.

“I don't care!!!” Guan Shan shouts back. And it's true: in a courage that can easily be another form of stupidity, he doesn't. “You can hit me all you want, it would still feel better than letting you annoy me to death, you conceited asshole!”

He Tian looks down at him. His eyes travel from Guan Shan's face to his neck, where it stops for a few seconds, before settling down on his chest. It's slightly trembling under the pressure of it all, and He Tian's lips curl into a strange arch, not wide enough to be a proper smile but still curved on the sides. The eyes abruptly move back up to make eye contact, and Guan Shan opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't know what, he forgets instantly what he was about to say and he will never remember it, because He Tian's tongue is in his mouth, and suddenly all he can feel is the soft wetness of He Tian's tongue stroking his, and He Tian's hands curling around his wrists like handcuffs.

A second is all it takes.  
In one small second, something appears in Guan Shan's stomach and grows until it's all his body is, and he doesn't know what it is, but it's scary, it's something completely alien, it's cold like a dead sun, burning like a black star, it's everywhere at once and Guan Shan, with all his education, all his years of fighting, all his pure stubbornness, is entirely powerless, a pebble caught in a tornado, and why is his body not his, at this moment, his only weapon dismantled, his sanctuary invaded by a faceless enemy, he doesn't understand, it's too much, he wants it to stop.

“No, no! Fuck, get off me!”

He struggles, and at the first movements, He Tian is off him. Not because he successfully pushed him away, but because as soon as he started moving around violently, He Tian sat up as if he was burnt.

And as soon as Guan Shan catches a glimpse of his expression, he looks away and convinces himself that he is imagining it. There is no way this expression exists, there is no way eyes can widen like that, that lips can bend this way, make this sad, miserable arch. There is simply no way. There is no way, but Guan Shan won't look again to check. He doesn't want to know he's wrong.

He hears He Tian turn around, leave the living room, and wherever he goes in the penthouse next, Guan Shan hears the distinct click of a locker.

After a transfixed minute, Guan Shan gets up. He mechanically starts to clean up. He covers the food with aluminum foil and puts it in the fridge. He cleans up the table and the counter with a sponge. He washes the chopsticks with soap and clear water before putting them back in the drawer.  
Then he sits on the couch and waits.

He knows he can't go. It's not an option.  
In his entranced state of mind, he knows he can't leave. If the last thing he saw of He Tian tonight was this, this expression that doesn't exist, something is going to stop working in him, a piece of him rusting away forever. He needs to stay.

He tries to rationalize, to tell himself it's not a big deal. It's not the first time he rejected a client's advances, he has done it before and it's as logical as self-preservation to him.  
But what just happened cannot be rationalized.  
First, because He Tian didn't look like a dejected client, he looked like something Guan Shan cannot name. There was shock, for sure, but the first sparkles of a well-hidden, ablaze self-hatred... No, Guan Shan doesn't want to think about that. He imagined it.  
Second, because there is no name he can put on what was in him when He Tian kissed him. It had the same aggressive stupor as panic, and it was mostly, but something started it and Guan Shan doesn't know what's at the roots. What fire made that smoke.

He can't leave.

A loud sound of something breaking comes from the bedroom, startling Guan Shan. What the fuck was that?

“He Tian?” He calls.  
No answer.

He gets up and goes to the bedroom door. It's closed. Is He Tian in here? Guan Shan is about to shyly knock on the door when it opens abruptly.

He Tian is standing here, and his features are completely unreadable again. Like the first time, he opened the door to let Guan Shan in his apartment. 

“I'll drive you home.” He says, voice frighteningly even, almost sounding disinterested.

“... Okay. Thanks.”

On the ride to the metro station, Guan Shan desperately tries to find the words to break the tension. It's everywhere in the care, in every available space. It echoes inside Guan Shan and his hands grip his knees firmer and firmer.  
What could he say?  
_It's not that big of a deal? I'm sorry I didn't do my job?_  
Or maybe turning it as a joke?

But everything sounds too fake, almost insulting, not conveying what happened. So Guan Shan tries the most honest thing he can think of. He bypasses the problem and tries to show He Tian they can still be like that. “I put the food in the fridge. You better eat it, okay? Don't waste any food.”

No response.

Maybe it's better this way.  
Guan Shan tries to embrace the melancholy of the scene. He focuses on the linear patterns of the lights on the windshield. It looks like golden tears.

“Are we” He Tian begins, but his voice breaks on the “we” and, on some strange wavelength, it sounds similar to the mysterious object breaking in the bedroom. “We are still going to see each other tomorrow, right?”

Guan Shan's eyes widen as he looks at He Tian. “What ?”

He Tian presses his lips together. He looks concentrated, burdened with a sad determination. “It won't happen again. I was under the impression that you wanted it too. But you don't. It's fine, I just-”

“I wanted it.” They both get caught off guard by this confession. Guan Shan hears it as if it was delivered to him by someone else. He keeps going, disconcerted by his own voice, by the truth he didn't know he held all along.

“Its why I freaked out, maybe? I'm not used to wanting it, I guess.”

Silence.

“With a client?” He Tian asks cautiously.

“With anyone.”

And it's true. To Guan Shan, desire always was a distant concept. Something exaggerated to the point of being imaginary.  
His first kiss was exactly that: the guy, whose name time erased from his memory, alongside some of his features, pressed his lips against Guan Shan's in the bathroom of a house party. Typical. But what Guan Shan remembers the most about this experience is not what he felt but rather what he didn't feel. As soon as the contact was made, it was just that. A contact. Skin against skin. Not unpleasant, per se, but nothing to blush and giggle about like people his age did at the simple mention of a kiss.  
And the few experiences he had after that before becoming an escort only confirmed it: there is nothing past a body against another body.  
Maybe that's why it was so easy for him to do his job. She Li always said it was an advantage. But why the fuck is he believing She Li's words, again?  
He thought that perhaps people imagined all these things, the sparkles, the butterflies, all this girly shit, because it felt good to even picture such a pleasure, to emulate it. But in the end all there was to it was nerve endings, swelling members, sweat, sometimes awkward rhythms, bruising positions. An intrusive, sweaty sport.  
But he was the one being wrong, wasn't he? There was something else, he just never searched for it, because as always he assumed he was right and everyone else was wrong. He didn't ask for it, because why would you chase a lie? But Guan Shan was the one who unwittingly lied to himself over and over again.  
He feels so vulnerable right now, almost pathetic. He's a twenty-three years old escort and it feels like he just had his first kiss.

“Mo-zai.” When he hears his nickname, he comes back to the present. He Tian has parked the car on the side of a crossroad. It's the dead of the night and everything is deserted. It almost feels unreal, like a painting. The only thing moving is color, as traffic lights cast shades of green, yellow and red rhythmically. 

Guan Shan meets He Tian's stare and the gentleness he finds there almost breaks his heart.

“Let's take things slow, then. Between us.”

What?

“I-” _I am a whore_ is what he wants to say. He settles for something less self-destructive. “I'm here because you pay me to.”

“I know.” He Tian responds without hesitation.

“You're fine with that?”

He Tian exhales loudly. “Let's say I disappear tomorrow. Will you look back at our story and only think of it as a transaction?”

“No.” Guan Shan answers honestly. He doesn't even need to think about it.

He Tian smiles, and Guan Shan can't say if it's confidence or relief. “It's enough for me. It doesn't matter if money is involved, as long as I know that you'll regret not seeing me.”

Guan Shan straightens his back and gazes at the asphalt road in front of him. “That's not what I said. You're extrapolating.”

From his peripherical vision, he sees He Tian smirk and reaches towards him in an attempt to ruffle his hair. “I'm surprised you know this word. I am immensely proud of you.”

Guan Shan pulls his hand away with his forearm and clicks his tongue. “You're becoming a prick again.”

He Tian laughs, but most of the irony it holds is directed at himself. “We should probably talk about your limits, then. I don't want to freak you out too much.”

Guan Shan fidgets uncomfortably. “I don't know them. I told you, I'm new to this stuff...”

He Tians hums. “We could use safewords?”

Guan Shan considers it. “Like some SM shit?”

“Yes, exactly like that. For example, If I do something out of the line, you'll just have to scream “Yoghurt” and I'll stop.”

A scoff. “Our safeword can't be “Yoghurt”, you dope. It's too ridiculous, even for you.”

“ “Sandwich”, then?”

“Don't drag sandwiches into this mess!”

He Tian distractedly rubs his palms together as he thinks about it. Then a shit-eating smile appears on his lips. “Oh, I think got it. How about “He Tian is my God, and I, Mo Guan Shan, am his devoted follower” ?”

There he goes again. What a prick. Although Guan Shan is so fucking relieved to see him like that again.

“How about “He Tian is the worst person alive” ?”

“How about “Overreacting brat?” ?”

“How about “Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you” ?”

He Tian blankly stares at him and shifts on his seat. “This one is pretty counterproductive. I think it would actually make me even more excited.”

“What the fuck?”

Guan Shan doesn't get a reply for a few seconds, because He Tian just stares ahead with a knowing smile. Then something in his eyes lights up and he turns to Guan Shan. “Let's do something basic, then. Traffic lights?” He Tian says, gesturing at the view in front of the car. “Green is “keep going”, yellow is “slow down, I need a moment”, and red is “stop everything”.”

Guan Shan thinks about it for a few seconds. “Yeah, that sounds... Okay.”

He Tian smiles and, after a short moment of frozen hesitation, leans in. When his lips are centimeters away from Guan Shan, he whispers:

“Color?”

“... Green.”

First, it's He Tian's breath against his lips, hot and ghostly, then, gradually, it's the gentlest press of lips. It goes away very quickly, as ephemeral as He Tian's pinches and pokes, but this time Guan Shan chases after it. He leans in as He Tian pulls away and as soon as He Tian feels it he stops and lets Guan Shan press their lips together. It lasts longer, and when He Tian pulls away, it's only to tilt his head the right angle. They keep going, and their lips press firmer against each other, it lasts longer, and each time they part it's with the smallest, quietest, most intimate sound Guan Shan has ever heard. It's the only point of contact of their body and yet Guan Shan fees it everywhere, and nothing was ever this warm.

He Tian puts both his hands on Guan Shan's lap and starts palming around as if searching. Panic starts to eat at his insides so Guan Shan breaks the kiss and looks down, only to find that He Tian was looking for his own hands, and is now holding them gently.

The traffic lights are red now, and He Tian's face is immersed in a crimson halo. But, drowned in this color, his eyes are as steely as ever, glowing like a grey sea under the sun. He brings one of Guan Shan's hands to his mouth and kisses the knuckles with a reverence that, somehow, makes him look even more regal.

“Let's go back. How does that sound?”

Guan Shan smiles. “Green.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. They are both drama queens.
> 
> Thankfully, we have traffic lights.


	6. Of phone calls and nice grey couches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan can't catch a fucking break.
> 
> Jian Yi is annoying,  
> He Tian is annoying,  
> and he is his own cock-block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter.  
> Let's just say, from that point on, it will get more and more smutty each chapter.  
> And believe you me, we're gonna go far.
> 
> I'm very horny and I have no shame. (I'm like He Tian in that regard!)
> 
> As always, thanks a lot for your kind words and kudos!  
> Keep 'em going, they mean so much to me.
> 
> Love <3

Guan Shan wakes up to the unfriendly sound of He Tian's alarm clock, and to the concerning sight of He Tian, already fully clothed in a grey silk shirt and black pants, propped up on his elbow, looking at him.  
While Guan Shan is still battling the drowsy grip of sleepiness, there is a stable energy about He Tian, conveying he was in this exact position for a while now. Looking at Guan Shan with a predatory tranquility.

Guan Shan grumbles and rubs his eyes, still bruised by sleep. “You know, I would be creeped out by what you're doing, but this is so in character for you that I'm not even surprised.”

He Tian chuckles. “Is that so?. He seems pleased that Guan Shan has at least the pretension of knowing what are He Tian's characteristics.

Guan Shan makes a noncommital grunt and turns the other way.

“Is this in character too?” He Tian asks. Guan Shan can feel him smile against his neck as he curls his arms around the redhead and pulls him against his chest. In the quietness of this morning, He Tian's heartbeat reverberates against the sheets and it feels like the whole bed is alive.  
He Tian buries his head into his hair, nuzzling into the red strands until the pointy tip of his nose travels downwards to meet Guan Shan's neck. He stops here for a few seconds, unmoving, before inhaling loudly.

It's where creepy meets sweet. Definitely in character.

“Yeah.”Guan Shan responds, pleasantly complaining. He lazily struggles in the embrace, but his movements are so slowed down by a kind of exquisite sleepiness that it seems like he's snuggling. He Tian hums happily and tries to bring him closer, but he's stopped mid-gesture.

“Better get moving, you asshole. I didn't wake up at six in the morning to fucking cuddle.”

“What a shame.” He Tian replies but he lets go and gets up. He soothes the wrinkles of his shirt before exiting the room.

When Guan Shan manages to make his poor sleep-stricken limbs, he puts on his clothes with slow, clumsy gestures and goes find He Tian in the kitchen.

“Coffe?” Is the question thrown at his face when he comes in.  
Fuck, just give him a minute.  
It's so early the sky is purple, with menacing pink clouds dotting it like cotton candy. It looks like an apocalypse made of sugar.

Coffe, coffe.... when the words finally mean something, Guan Shan crunches his nose. “Is it black?”

“Yes, just like the adults drink it.” He Tian replies. “But I can add sugar, honey and cream if it's too much for your not yet matured palate, young soul.”

“I drink it black too!” He lies proudly.

And that's how Guan Shan ends up drinking the cup of coffee in one painful sip. Maturity tastes bitter.

When He Tian drops him at the metro station, he takes Guan Shan's hand and squeezes it gently. And although Guan Shan gets his hand out of that grip as fast as he can, he can still feel He Tian's fingers on his skin when he gets home. Not the heat, but the exact shape, like a ghost's handshake.

The first thing he does at home is throw himself in his armchair, curl himself into a comfortable position, and nap. He's been waking up supremely early for two days now. What's wrong with this asshole and his sleep hours?

He is awakened not two hours later by a phone call. It vibrates in his pocket, with no regards at all for his sleep deprivation.  
Is he gonna be able to sleep normally ever again?

He looks at the caller's ID. Jian Yi. 

He picks up. “Hey.”

Jian Yi's voice sounds strained like he came out of a roller coaster and is still high from the speed. “Reddie! I'm so glad you're not busy right now!”

“What's up? Wanna hang?” Guan Shan guesses he has to embrace the fact that he will not fall back asleep anytime soon. 

“Oh, see, I'd love to, little redhead, but I'm kind of in a pickle right now...”

Guan Shan shifts and the leather of his armchair whines. “What's happening?”

“You know, God's greatest gift to humanity since it exists?”

“..........Jimmy Hendrix?”

“No, what? Focus, reddie! I'm talking about Zhan Zheng Xi!”  
Guan Shan isn't sure Zhan Zheng Xi can play guitar with his teeth like Jimmy Hendrix but okay.

“What about him?”

“You see, I miiiight have spotted him in the streets earlier today and I miiiiiiiight have followed him home...”

“What?”

Guan Shan gets up suddenly. He starts to pace restlessly in his apartment. What the fuck is wrong with his friend?

“Jian Yi, you can't stalk a cop! He's literally the worst person to stalk! He's the kind of guy people contact when they're being stalked, you know? The guy with the big gun?”

“Oh, I bet he has a big gun alright...” Fuck, Guan Shan can see his fucking perverted expression. Too bad he can't punch it.

He doesn't see a reason why he should stand this perverted shit. “I'm hanging up.”

“No, listen, don't worry, okay, I'm being super discreet, it's all good, I'm-” SLAM!

“Jian Yi? Jian Yi!!” He asks, panicked. He hears nothing but muffling sounds until:

“No, it's okay, it's all good, I fell down, but nobody was around so I'm still unnoticed! I'm not even bleeding that much!”

Unbelievable. “Jian Yi, do you even know what you're doing?”

“Sure I do! I'll stay in his neighborhood until he comes out then I'll casually run into him and be all like “Zhan Zheng Xi?? What a coinkidink!” And we'll talk and I will be dreamy and the right amount of mysterious and he'll ask me to marry him and I-”

Guan Shan's head hurts already. Jian Yi's friendship should come with an unlimited supply of aspirin. “Dude, can't you play it cool? I thought you saw him regularly already!”

“Yeah, because I know where he works so sometimes when I can, I go to the precinct and we have lunch together. But he's always so formal, I wanna try to make it more cas', you know? See him without a uniform for once? Although I don't mind the uniform.”

“Stop talking, I am begging you.”

“Hey, don't be like that! Anyway, I called you because I have a question.”

“Yeah.” Guan Shan is getting more and more desperate to hang up, now.

“How should I walk?”

“... Huh?”

For the love of God, he should have hung up. 

“You know! When he notices me taking a stroll in his neighborhood, how should I walk? I was thinking something a bit slutty, a “I'm very classy but I enjoy being spanked once in a while” kind of vibe but he might hate it, I don't-” Jian Yi's seemingly endless tirade stills suddenly. The lack of sound is so abrupt that Guan Shan has to look at his screen to make sure he didn't hang up on accident. Not that it will be bad, but still.

“Jian Yi, did your last braincell finally die? Can I hang up?”

“HE'S OUT!”

“Wh-”

“OH MY GOD RED HE'S SO HANDSOME!” Jian Yi is doing this strange hybridity of a voice where he's trying to scream and murmur at the same time. It comes out raspy and low, snake-like. Guan Shan instinctively tilts his head away from the phone.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“But you don't get it, he is so handsome! It's not real, how can he exist? Here, I'll take a picture.”

“I don't want a fucking picture, ew!”

“I'm not taking it for you, dummy. You think I'm gonna share this treasure with anyone else?”

Click.

“SHIT RED THE FLASH WAS ON THE FLASH WAS ON THE FLASH WAS ON”

“Jian Yi-”

“HE SAW ME! What do I-” SLAM!

“Jian Yi??”

No answer. Jian Yi hung up.

Guan Shan tries to call him again, to no avail.

**Mo Guan Shan: Jian Yi, if you don't pick up, I'll change your contact name to Assclown.  
Permanently.**

He needs Jian Yi to answer him. First of all, he is a bit worried about his dumbass of a friend. A cop and a hooker are not the perfect match, and he wants to be sure Jian Yi doesn't end up in prison. Not prison. Not another person that matters to him.  
Also, because without Jian Yi's juvenile trepidation, as annoying as it can be, nothing in the world is preventing him from thinking about a grey couch, about a dark, cruel, caring man, about the shape of early mornings in a bed that's not his.

When he comes back to He Tian's apartment, it's like he never even left. In the end, he couldn't keep himself from thinking about this penthouse, the shape of it, its lack of furniture. For a reason he can't pinpoint, materialistic details are what stayed in his mind the whole day: the loneliness of a chair, the length of He Tian's fingers, the buzzing light of the fridge, the strands of hair falling in front of He Tian's eyes, almost hiding them in a black veil.  
He thought about it so much that he wonders if he really left the penthouse in a way that matters, this morning.

He is standing in front of the door, and it's slowly opening and suddenly he's spinning. And he can't understand how he went from one state to the other so quickly, but it makes sense when he finally realizes that He Tian, not one second after opening the door, picked him up in his arms and started spinning him around like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!!!” Guan Shan yells. 

“Alright, alright.” He Tian concedes, slowing down before putting Guan Shan back on his feet. The world is all wobbly right now, and Guan Shan tries to stabilizes himself.

“Did you miss me?” Fuck, He Tian's voice does not help. It makes him dizzier.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Guan Shan asks angrily. 

He Tian chuckles. “No need to be shy, you're allowed to miss me.”

“And you're allowed to shut up.” Guan Shan replies without missing a beat.

“I'll keep that in mind, Mo-zai.”

He breaks the distance between them and looks down at him as if searching for something. Guan Shan looks up, and is about to close his eyes and let the impending kiss happen when He Tian suddenly says:

“Did anyone tell you how much you look like a tomato?”

Guan Shan huffs. He tries very hard to not name the feeling at the pit of his stomach but he knows what it is. Disappointment. Talk about killing the mood... “What is wrong with you?”

He Tian is about ton answer when a buzzing sound startles them both. 

He Tian takes Guan Shan's phone out of his back pocket before he can make a gesture and looks at the screen with an interested smile. His smile only grows when he reads the name of the caller.

“Assclown is calling you.”

What???  
Who?  
Shit! Jian Yi!

"It would be rude to answer the phone call when you're with me, wouldn't it, Mo-zai?" He Tian playfully says.

Guan Shan snatches the phone away, and, without breaking eye contact with He Tian, he coldly replies "Yeah, it sure would be." before pressing the "answer" button.

"What's up?" he asks, still looking at He Tian, whose expression is both admirative and menacing.

“Hey, Reddie, I'm sorry I couldn't call you back but the most amazing thing happened!” Jian Yi's cheerful voice comes ringing in his ear while He Tian comes closer to him, clearly aiming for his phone.

“So you know, ... Zhan Zheng Xi spotted me, ... run the other way and I slammed my face against the concrete. ...was so sweet! He invited me to his home, he cleaned up my boo-boos...” Guan Shan can register only half the words because he is also trying to push He Tian away. And it's no small task, the guy is a giant and his movements are swift as a panther's.

“Hey, are you even listening! I'm telling you the most beautiful love story ever since Thelma and Louise, right now!”

This is not even a love story, you fucking moron Guan Shan wants to answer but then He Tian just grabs him by the waist with one hand, and with the other one, he's gripping the poor, innocent cell phone.

“Yeah, I am, okay? It's just, I have the most annoying piece of shit clinging to me right now and I- hey, give it back!” Damn it!

He Tian snatches Guan Shan's phone away in one gracefully controlled motion. He brings it to his ear and asks “Hello, assclown?” in the most elegant voice Guan Shan has ever heard.

Silence on the other side.

“....Who are you??? Wait, are you the guy reddie sees all week? Richard Gere? Is that you?” Fuck. Jian Yi can be surprisingly astute when it's the least convenient for anyone else.

He Tian gives Guan Shan an analyzing look before replying an enigmatic“.... I suppose.” Guan Shan tries to take the phone back but He Tian manages to secure both of his wrists with just his left hand. What is up with this guy?

“Give it back!” He hisses, but He Tian just casts him an amused look.

Jian Yi's voice comes out of the denied phone.“....Richard Gere, what would you do if you were really really really really in love with someone but the guy was just being fraternal with you?” 

....

Wait, what? Is Jian fucking Yi asking for relationship advice from a fucking stranger? And not any stranger, Guan Shan's stranger! Guan Shan stays frozen in place, and he waits for He Tian's reaction. First, he is extremely neutral, with a perfectly linear mouth, then the biggest smile appears on his lips. His eyes shine with malice.

“It's already something isn't it?"

"You think so???"

"Of course. You just have to build the relationship you want with him around that. Nothing is set in stone. Fraternal is good, it means he cares for you already. You have to turn that into pure, mad love."

"Pure, mad, love, that's what I want! You get me, Richard Gere!"

Guan Shan can only watch, with all the incomprehension and wonder in this world, as his client is talking to his best friend about how to seduce a fucking dude. A cop, for heaven's sake.  
Truthfully, it doesn't last long, He Tian wraps up the conversation as soon as he understands that Jian Yi can go full fucking hours talking about Zhan Zheng Xi with excruciatingly vivid details. Guan Shan wish he understood that as quickly.

He Tian hangs up with one final goodbye to Jian Yi, who didn't even ask once to be put back on the phone with Guan Shan, that fucking traitor, and puts the phone on the nearest surface before releasing Guan Shan's wrists. Damn, Guan Shan was so far gone in the land of "What is happening to me and why" that he didn't even notice he was still being held prisoner.

“Assclown seems nice.” He Tian says before walking away.

“Yeah, he's a real trooper.” Guan Shan answers absentmindedly, still asking himself how in the hell did he manage to find both a too-trusting, romantic friend and a shameless, overconfident client in his lifetime. Does he have a hormonal imbalance that makes him attract only the weirdest fucking persons? It must be it. He mechanically follows He Tian to the living room without noticing it.

He Tian breaks his thought bubble by clearing his throat loudly. He is sitting on the couch, looking at Guan Shan as if he was waiting for an explanation. Why? Guan Shan should be the one confused, not the other way around!

“What?” He asks.

“Richard Gere? Pretty Woman, right?” He Tian questions while tilting his head.

Oh.  
Oh SHIT.

“You know it?” He asks with a small voice.

A shrug. “It's a classic.”

Oh, that's not good. Guan Shan can only imagine what He Tian is thinking right now: that Guan Shan goes around talking about them as if they're the protagonists of a romantic comedy. He probably imagines Guan Shan starry-eyed, a little reluctant as he admits to whoever wants to hear that He Tian is like this modern prince charming, and fuck, it's so unfair, Guan Shan didn't even watch this fucking thing!

“Look, I didn't even watch that stupid movie, alright? Jian Yi is the only one who chose that nickname when I-” He stops mid-sentence when he realizes what he was about to confess. But it's too late. He Tian understood.

“When you told him all about me?” He asks, but it's rhetorical. Guan Shan stays silent. His ears are burning.

He Tian stares at him, clearly elated by the information. “When you couldn't help but tell him everything about what's been on your mind lately-”

“Fuck off!” Guan Shan cuts him.

He Tian doesn't reply. He just looks at him and pats the empty space on his side, clearly inviting Guan Shan to sit.

“No.”

“Red?” For a moment he thinks He Tian is calling him by his nickname. The recognition of it being a safeword comes afterward.

“...No.” He answers honestly.

“Then, sit.”

Guan Shan does. As far from He Tian as he can. He's at the edge of the couch, almost falling off of it.

“Come closer.” He Tian asks, an order masked as a gentle suggestion. Guan Shan moves a few centimeters towards him.

“Closer.” Another few centimeters.

“Closer.”  
Admitting defeat, Guan Shan reduces any kind of physical distance between them. Their thighs and shoulders are pressed against each other.

“Closer.” He Tian asks again.

“How can I possibly be closer?” Guan Shan growls.

He Tian just looks at him, eyes a little hooded, expecting, and the answer comes to Guan Shan's lips as they meet He Tian's.  
Just lips against lips again, moving against each other as if searching the best way for them to know the other's shape and taste. It stays like that for a moment, quiet and gently intimate, with soft exhales and short separations. Guan Shan wraps his arms around He Tian's neck, pulling him in closer, and He Tian's hand are on either side of his jaw, keeping him firmly in place. 

Then He Tian's tongue traces slowly Guan Shan's bottom lip, as if he was trying to draw its outline. Guan Shan lets him do that, lets him seek for progress for a little while. He keeps his mouth shut and only answers with little pecks or long, chaste caresses of lips. It seems to only make He Tian more determined. He becomes more and more insistent, his tongue starts to graze the soft line of Guan shan's closed lips.  
That's the moment Guan Shan chooses to open his mouth and catch He Tian's tongue between his teeth. He Tian makes a surprised noise and he can hear it inside himself as if he was the one who made it.

He's being bold, and he's the first surprised. Perhaps the knowledge of being able to stop this whenever he needs is the most arousing thing. Knowing it can be stopped makes him want to keep going.

He replaces his teeth by his lips and starts sucking He Tian's tongue gently. He Tian, clearly bemused by how bold he is being, stays frozen for a few delightful seconds, letting the redhead do as he pleases, licking and gently nibbling on his tongue. Gradually, his response gets more and more enthusiastic. His hands on Guan Shan move from his head to his waist, firmer and firmer as they go down, and he answers to the kiss by being more dominant, almost forceful even, as if he was trying to taste every part of Guan Shan's mouth. He kisses like he is an invader, like he is here to take everything he can steal, conquer. And Guan Shan puts on a fight, a fight as rebellious as it is welcoming.  
It becomes hot and messy, and at this point, everything feels like an extension of what they are doing. The whole penthouse is them kissing. The couch, the windows, the lamps, everything.

He only notices that they are now lying down, He Tian looming over him like an october sky, when He Tian pulls away. It leaves him swollen and out of breath, and he wonders how the fuck he can simultaneously feel his own body like he never has before and not realize he was lying down. Since when did He Tian move them in that position?

When he looks at him, he sees eyes almost completely black, like the pupils bloomed, a red, swollen mouth and the first shimmers of sweat appearing on his brow. But, more than everything, he realizes that He Tian pulled away to look at his neck. It's a volatile look: his grey eyes are moving slowly from the crook under his Adam's apple to the spot just below the jaw to the soft curve starting from his ear and ending at his shoulder.  
His stare has a dark appreciation to it, as if he reveled in its apparent delicateness, its frailty, how its diaphanous skin could break. He runs his knuckles on Guan Shan's neck with a gentle admiration. Guan Shan shivers, and it goes through his whole body, leaving behind itself sparkles of pleasure and embarrassment.

“I'm going to.” He Tian warns.

“Okay.” Guan Shan replies, and it does not occur to him to ask him what he's going to do.

He gets his answer anyways, when He Tian brings his lips to his neck and start sucking red little marks on its whiteness. “Fuck, He Tian.” He Tian grunts in agreement against his flesh. He is dedicated to his work, sucking on the skin as if he has an ulterior motive, and Guan Shan's knees start to weaken, he can feel it even though they are sitting. He only leaves the reddened skin, hickeys shaped like his mouth, to leave open-mouthed kisses on the length of the neck. And, without any warning signs, he bites.

“Hah... ha, fuck...” Guan Shan hears himself cursing.  
He bites him in the exact spot a wolf aims for when it wants to kill its prey. On the side, where the neck meets the shoulder. Next to sensitive, vital veins. This similarity makes him press himself more against He Tian, until He Tian's heartbeat resonates in his ribcage.

Bringing him close like that, he can feel He Tian's erection against his thigh, and it's immediately not enough. He wants to feel it more, its weight, its shape. It's already very hard, a stark contrast with the ambient softness of the couch and the gentle firmness of the muscles holding him.  
It's the first time that making someone hard makes him even more aroused. Something akin to triumph explodes inside of him. He made He Tian hard as a rock. These words only could make him fucking hard himself.

While He Tian is still teeth deep into his neck, he rubs his thigh against the hardness of his cock.  
“Fuck.” Oh, that's the first time he hears He Tian curse. He likes that.  
He's about to move his thigh up and down but He Tian is quicker. He catches Guan Shan's lips in a mouth-bruising kiss, moves himself to be between Guan Shan's legs, and starts grinding their erections together. He moves his waist in slow circles first, while Guan Shan is practically eating his bottom lip. It's very clear he's trying to be methodic, but even the appearance of control crumbles very quickly.  
Very quickly, they are both desperately rutting against each other, seeking pleasure in an almost animalistic way. They kiss like they mean to bruise and touch only to bring each other closer, deeper into his mess.  
He feels his climax coming, but the building pleasure immediately comes with fear. He is going to lose any kind of lucidity, he knows, and it scares him, because it's so close to defeat, to death, even, and he doesn't trust himself, and does he trust He Tian? It's too intense, he has to stop it-  
Shit. He's being overwhelmed again.

“Red!”  
And just like that, He Tian pulls away. With the same frantic movements of their first kiss but this time, instead of looking distraught, he looks resolved. And very, very horny. Fuck.

“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.

Fuck, yes. But also, no. Both are true, but their coexistence is not logical, so Guan Shan picks the third answer.

“You were dry humping me on your fancy-ass couch.” Guan Shan blurts out.

He Tian's eyes widen in surprise and then he bursts out laughing. His shoulders shake and he hides his laugh in the crook of Guan Shan's neck, next to the hickeys he made.

"What's so funny, dumbass?" 

"Your choice of words, perhaps." He Tian replies between the shards of his laugher.

And maybe it's the endorphins still rushing in his body, maybe it's the relief that the safeword worked, maybe it's the ridiculousness of self-sabotaging himself and being the sole provider of his sexual frustration, but Guan Shan starts laughing too.

Somewhere else, his phone vibrates dully. It vibrates for no one, because no one notices, and stills. The screen, pressed against the floor, lights up with a message.

1 unanswered call- She Li

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She Li: .....


	7. Of hide-and-seek and insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She Li's call
> 
> Guan Shan's reaction
> 
> He Tian's perspetive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, you little pearls to the necklace of my life!
> 
> Sorry for taking so long.
> 
> Life. Ups. Downs. You know how it is.
> 
> Anyway, as always, thanks so much! Enjoy ;)

Guan Shan picks up exactly 18 minutes after the missed phone call. It is important, when you run a business, to notice every little detail, no matter how insignificant it appears. Obsessive behavior, some might say, but She Li never cared for the prison-cell of certain labels. 

“Zheng Jie”. It's the only word She Li utters when Guan Shan picks up. The client he was supposed to see this afternoon. The one who contacted She Li, with irritation and humiliation, to ask why Guan Shan wasn't showing up like he was supposed to. Surely, just his name is enough to make Guan Shan realize his mistake. 

“Shit.” It is. Efficiency and blunt coldness work hand in hand in She Li's white fury.

“She Li, I-”

“Don't.”

“No, listen, I'm sorry, okay? I messed up-” Guan Shan's pleas, shaped like reproaches, usually are a delight to hear, in all their vehement clumsiness. But now is the time for measures. 

“I said don't.”

“....” Silence. A form of obedience, between them. Good.

“Listen to me very carefully. You're going to come to me, right now. Jacob's Ladder. We'll talk about this.” He only needs a slight emphasis on the word “talk” to imply something darker. Guan Shan, as always, is exquisitely receptive to menaces. When he answers, after a stunned silence, his voice is thin like India paper.

“No, wait, I screwed up, it happens. It's the first time I forget a client, you know that! Can't I be allowed one mistake like that?”

“No. Come.”

“No.”

Ah. Fighting back.  
Usually, it's for show. A way to tell himself he can resist, and She Li allows it. Some dogs need a long leash. But this stripped “no” seems sincere. A real refusal.  
Who is teaching him authenticity?  
Unacceptable.

“Redhead, you listen and you listen well. I want you to think about all the ways your little rebellion can go down and I want you to tell me if you see at least one outcome where it will turn out well for you. Or your precious mother.”

“.... I'm with a client.” He tries again, but his voice is so clearly breakable, now. She Li is almost envious. He must really care for his mother. Caring must be something beautiful, in all its raw inconveniences. It's certainly useful when you notice it in someone else.

“It doesn't matter. This is more important. Leave immediately. I'm expecting you.”

She Li hangs up and he waits with nonchalance. Guan Shan always comes back to him. He always does.  
What to do with him when he comes?

In the surface, forgetting is a mistake severe enough to be reprimanded, but without resorting to efforts of violence. However, Guan Shan doesn't forget. He is very focused when it comes to money.  
Who is teaching him to forget?  
Who is teaching him to refuse him?  
Who is teaching Guan Shan to belong to someone else?  
This He Tian client?

Something must be done.

Absentmindedly, he opens a file on his computer. When you do background checks on clients, you know who are the inoffensive ones. You also know who are the ones who break, who abuse, who scar. The ones who will be punishment enough for disobedience.

Guan Shan looks at the silent phone in his hand, suddenly feeling very still.  
Shit. 

The cold air of the balcony, where he secluded himself to be able to frantically call back, surrounds him in an icy cocoon. After a freezing minute, he goes back to the apartment, where He Tian is still on the sofa. He was waiting for him patiently. It makes him want to cry.

“Who was it?” He Tian asks with an easy smile. “Assclown again?”

“I have to go.” Guan Shan answers. He Tian's smile drops. 

“Why?”

“The guy I called asked me to go so I have to.” Guan Shan says, evasive, while moving towards the entrance. But He Tian gets up and grabs his arm.

“I'm paying you.” He argues, which is a low blow, both pathetic and true. Technically, Guan Shan owes him to stay.

“No. For tonight, you won't have to pay. It's fine.” Guan Shan answers without looking at him.

“I'm sorry, what part of this is fine? What is happening? Who-”

“He Tian, fuck off, okay?” Guan Shan snaps, struggling. He doesn't manage to get He Tian's hand away from his arm but at least the squeeze is significantly lighter. “You have no fucking idea of what's happening!”

“This is exactly why you need to tell me.”

Guan Shan huffs. “I don't owe you shit.”

With his other hand, He Tian gently lifts Guan Shan's chin so their eye can meet. The grey of his irises is as steely as ever. Even when pleading. “Mo-zai, come on.”

Guan Shan hesitates. He supposes He Tian deserves to hear what's going on. Not in the details, but at least a small summary.

“I was supposed to see a client earlier today but I forgot and I pissed off the wrong person and I have to go.” This is a shitty summary but it is supposed to be one. He doesn't want He Tian to know too much.

“Go where? To him? The other client?” Fuck. He should have known. He Tian is fucking persistent.

He doesn't answer, but he tries to pry his arm free from He Tian's hand. His movements are shaky. The fingers only squeeze tighter.

“No.” He Tian says, more to himself than anything else. But Guan Shan understands what he's telling to himself. This is, while not typical jealousy, in the realm of a messed-up possessiveness.

“No! You don't do that shit! We don't do that shit!” Guan Shan screams, horrified. The self-righteous way He Tian refuses to hear about other clients scares him shitless. “This is my job, okay? You can't be like that! I have other clients and I know you and I have some weird shit going on between us but that has nothing to do with it!”

He Tian answers like he didn't hear a single word: “You can't go. I won't let you.”

“You don't have a fucking choice.” Guan Shan replies, as venomous as possible.

“But you do.”

No, he fucking doesn't. It's been a while since he didn't.

“Stay.” He Tian asks, voice soft, this time. “I'll pay more if it helps-”

“Are you fucking deaf? I have to go!” The sooner it's over, the sooner Guan Shan can stop feeling like he's kicking a puppy. But He Tian is motionless. Ruthless in his defiance.

“...You forgot a client. Is this something that happens regularly to you?” Guan Shan stills. Puzzled, he looks up at He Tian. He Tian's eyes are squinted, like he's trying to figure something out.

“Sometimes.” Guan Shan lies, and He Tian sees right through it.

“...Is this because of me?”

… Goddamn FUCK.  
The bastard looks proud. Dedicated, worried, but proud. Like Guan Shan's mistake is somehow a Freudian act linked to them. What the fuck does he imagine? That he forgot because he was just so enraptured thinking about this jerk? Daydreaming like some schoolgirl?  
What fucks him up the most in this crazy little theory is how plausible it is.

But that's not it. He Tian's fucking wrong.  
He just forgot, it's all. It fucking happens. It's a coincidence, this whole He Tian situation happening at the same time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He violently bats is arm away and pushes He Tian with all his strength. The bastard only takes one small step back, which only feeds his rage. 

“You don't fucking matter even half as much as you think! Not to me, and I'm beginning to think not to anyone.”

He must have hit a nerve because He Tian hits him.  
It's so quick and so sudden that Guan Shan feels the pain before understanding what happened. But then he's facing right, and a million burning needles sting his left cheek.

Putting a cold hand on his burning cheek, Guan Shan glares at He Tian, eyes wide. He expects him to look at least a little surprised, guilty even, but his features depict a gloomy triumph, swollen and dark as a cloud filled with thunder. “Fuck. It's not going to be my day today. Shit.”

He Tian's behavior changes suddenly, he looks ridiculously worried now and how dare he, what the fuck.

“What do you mean?”

Guan Shan laughs bitterly. “Oh, really? You're going to play the fucking knight now? Just a minute after punching me in the fucking face? There's no limit to how fucking sinister and fake you can be?”

At least now He Tian has the decency to look as close to remorseful as he will ever get in his sad fucking life. He lets go. Guan Shan walks away.

“Stay” He Tian calls. The door closes. Guan Shan leaves.

He Tian isn't sure of why he called an escort in the first place. But that was the point, after all.  
He was tired of being proved right. He was tired of the same pattern, a dance he has with his own loneliness. It's an ugly thing, not looking like yourself. It makes you very isolated. He Tian looks posed, nonchalant, confident and stable. Easygoing, laid-back, even. Deep down, he is none of these things, and people approach him for things he is not.  
Maybe, if someone was bound to him by another matter altogether, like money, it would be different. Or, at the very least, it will be completely straightforward. It would be a consensual nothingness. This is why he contacted the service. And he asked for someone unusual. They sent Guan Shan. 

Then Guan Shan came and he wasn't unusual. He was downright scandalous.  
And the scandal started with his beauty.  
Guan Shan has this kind of peculiar beauty that you feel like you create personally when you look at him. It isn't offered, it requires an attentive eye, some seeking, some probing. And when it appears, in all its miraculous nature, it seems like an intimate gift was given. His beauty is kept to himself, closeted, like it's no one's business. It has to be cracked open, pried apart like a secret, split like the pulsating heart of a captured beast. It has to be slit like a wound, broken like a rock until the first rays of gold shine. He Tian remembers looking at the accusing tone of his amber eyes and thinking yes, I want to play hide and seek with him. I want to hide so he can find me. I want to find him where he is hidden.  
This in of itself is scandalous. How he treats his beauty as if it's something to preciously keep away from everybody. Then he let He Tian find it, and it burned like a bee sting.  
Everything- his eyes, his hair, his arms, his legs-  
His legs- he remembers them. The sun was pouring on them even though it was night. He Tian knows beauty to be crafted as a weapon, he didn't know it to be so bare. Devoid, like rays of light.

He is, without the shadow of a doubt, the most scandalous person he has ever met. Revolting.  
His fiery kindness, the animalistic nature of his sensuality, the way everything given to him can become an insult in his eyes.  
The softness of his cheek when He Tian hit him.

I hit him.

He Tian mechanically strips, lays down, yawns and doesn't sleep.

He keeps thinking.

I hit him.

He was jealous. Still is.  
It's where his jealousy lays that bothers him. Makes him feel ashamed, even, but this shamefulness is almost euphoric.  
Sure, he dislikes the idea of other clients but...  
Guan Shan was shivering. He was scared, terrified even. Somebody He Tian isn't is making him shiver like that. Is affecting him like that.  
He Tian despises everything that can impact Guan Shan so completely. His widened eyes, his shivers, his burning anger, his pleasure. He Tian claimed them like a crownless king claims a virgin land.  
He decided it when Guan Shan, with his coy spikes, told him he wanted him. When his skillful hands caressed his exhausted head with reluctant compassion.

As stated earlier. If He Tian seems laid back, it's only an appearance.

In the early morning, when a light, sickly pale, comes through the closed curtains, He Tian's eyes ache with the blue flames of insomnia. He already found Guan Shan's address, after a little bit of midnight research, pushed by the high of sleep depravation. It's easy to find such things when you have a background full of illicit activities. He can only pray that He Cheng won't find out. He's still looking over him like a tired, forgotten god. And it's for the best if he doesn't know about Guan Shan.

He contemplates if he should go to him. Right now. In the morning. 

He decides it's not a good idea. Not going to work will raise further suspicion from his brother. And maybe Guan Shan is still upset. Maybe he will reject him. Maybe this time he's too closed to show anything else than his veil of anger.  
Yes, it's better if he doesn't go so soon.

He goes.

He knocks on the wooden door of the flat, wondering how, with all the money Guan Shan costs, let alone to him, how he can't afford a bigger place. Even without coming in, he can picture how small this is. Too small for a little sun, surely. Too cramped up for his light to expand.

He wonders what Guan Shan thinks about when he knocks on his door. Maybe he thinks about the size problem too? How big his penthouse is for one person? How it's filled with emptiness?  
Maybe he doesn't think about him at all. Although He Tian doesn't want to consider this possibility for too long.

Guan Shan opens.

He looks tired, so tired he might not be there. He Tian knows the feeling.

A red bruise is under his left eye. The soft contrast with the red of his irises and his hair shouldn't be as fascinating as it is. 

Am I the one who did it? Is it my mark? Or is it someone else?  
He can't say which answer he hates the most.

He expected Mo-zai to yell, to curse and slam the door. Instead, he looks heartbreakingly relieved to have been found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was 70% cacao.  
> The next one, while still containing cacao, will probably be sweeter.  
> Stay tuned!


	8. Of iced tea and constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are lots of unspoken things between them that needs to be said.  
> A lot of undone things that need to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!
> 
> Hope it will feed your craving for some good Tianshan interaction.
> 
> Thanks as always for the support and the comments. I may take a while to respond but they all mean the world to me and they all make me warm like a li'l sun.  
> Love yall.
> 
> Also, I made a slight change: Little Mo, in Chinese, is pronounced Mo-zai, and I find that way cuter (Maybe the "little" of the translation is a bit too infantilizing for my taste, even though it's very endearing as well). So I changed it! In the previous chapters as well (normally)

He Tian is here.  
He looks almost surreal, with his designer clothes and skin whitened by lack of sleep. Another reality superposed to Guan Shan's lobby. The edges of him cutting the faded color of the walls in the background.  
He takes two steps and hides his face in the crook of Guan Shan's neck. Guan Shan wants to put his hands on the black slope of his shoulders. Instead, he clenches his fists.

“Fuck, you're very fucking persistent, aren't you.” Guan Shan sighs.

“Very fucking persistent.” He Tian repeats against his neck. The echo of his own words is damp and low in He Tian's mouth.

His arms come around Guan Shan.  
Guan Shan instantly wishes they didn't.  
Because, as comforting as they are, they're also pressing on purpling bruises, dotting his skin like spots of pain.

Fuck.

What a night he had.

…

He doesn't want to think about it.

“Well, come in, then, don't stand here like a frozen piece of shit.” He says, stepping out of the embrace. The bruises He Tian involuntarily touched pulsate dully, and Guan Shan feels like he is covered in tiny, suffering hearts. 

As Guan Shan walks to his kitchen, He Tian is looking around, silent. He seems to take in Guan Shan's belongings with all the seriousness and quiet wonder of an ethologist. This whole apartment might be the size of his living room. Less, even. Guan Shan isn't embarrassed by this. All that he has, he earned. All that He Tian has was given to him, he's sure.

“So, should I be worried that you know my address now?” He asks, pouring iced tea into two drinks. He tries to be casual about this, but his hand shivers like it doesn't belong to him. He hands the emptiest glass to He Tian. The bastard carefully takes it, looks at the translucid liquid and its golden swirls with narrowed eyes and asks, without looking up:

“Should YOU be worried? I haven't slept at all, Mo-zai.” His voice is laced with fatigue.

Guan Shan scoffs. “You weren't so worked up about my well-being, yesterday, when you assaulted me, were you?” 

This time, He Tian doesn't even flinch at the accusation. He has the dead seriousness of a priest about to confess his own sins.

“About-” He Tian pauses and his eyes lose focus for a moment. He licks his lips and he tries again, looking intently at Guan Shan now.

“About this... I'm sorry.” He vaguely points to Guan Shan's left cheek.

Guan Shan hums. His heart swells with satisfaction, and his blood carries drops of triumph, alongside something darker, cruel, a dark matter that makes him want more than apologies and less than repentance.  
So he takes He Tian's glass out of his hands, with all the carefulness of a doe for its newborn fawn, sets it aside in one gentle motion, and punches He Tian square in the jaw.

He Tian didn't expect it, clearly, because he makes a startled, low little sound and, when he straightens his head, his eyes are wide. Looking at Guan Shan with white bewilderment.

“Now we're even.” Guan Shan announces proudly.

Without breaking eye contact even once, He Tian touches his own cheek and winces slightly. His shoulders are hunching. 

Then he surges forward and it's the only thing Guan Shan wanted. He was waiting for it, for longer than this single morning. 

He welcomes He Tian's weight as it presses him against the small cupboard, He Tian's hands almost automatically capturing his wrists and He Tian's dark scowl, grey eyes full of thunder and rain.

Furiously, desperately, they kiss. None of them feel like they initiated. It just happened, it blossomed violently between them and now they're caught in it. It's messy, teeth clicking, lips bruising. Greedy, unmelodic, animalistic sounds. Like they want blood.

Guan Shan brutally liberates his wrists in one tremor and digs his fingers into the meat of his back, purposefully hostile, and He Tian responds by grabbing a fistful of red hair while his other hand sneaks below Guan Shan's thigh and squeezes with violence.  
It's so similar to what happened to Guan Shan last night, but it couldn't be more different, a completely alien symphony played with the same instruments, and Guan Shan wants to listen to it as it unfolds. He presses his palms against He Tian's lower back and digs his nails deeper, going up his broad back with painful slowness. He revels in the grunt he pulls out of He Tian.  
He Tian picks him up effortlessly, two hands just below his ass as he carries him around to the bedroom. His apartment is so small that He Tian finds it without asking.

He's thrown to the bed and the separation seems to bring a breath of lucidity to He Tian, because for a moment he just stands there, in front of the bed, hair strands stuck to his forehead, eyes completely black, the hardness of his cock anything but subtle as it presses against the zipper of his pants.

“Is it okay?” He asks, panting.

Is he fucking serious?  
“Do you see me complaining, asshole?” Guan Shan replies angrily.

“You're literally doing it right now, Mo-zai.” He Tian answers with an amused chuckle. How he manages to look both affectionate and seconds away from going absolutely feral, Guan Shan will never know.

“God fucking damn it, shut the fuck up.” Because Guan Shan has to do anything himself, he grabs He Tian's wrist and violently drags him towards the bed. He Tian happily lets his body crash against Guan Shan's. His teeth sink into Guan Shan's neck almost naturally, like it's their rightful place to be.

Any kiss, caress, or friction turns into wrestling. They're both fighting against each other and for each other, and Guan Shan never wanted to lose so badly before. He reaches for He Tian with his lips and his hands, aiming for either painful pleasure or delectable bruising.  
He Tian relentlessly tugs on his shirt, his intent clear. Guan Shan finds the piece of clothing suddenly very insulting, and he angrily takes it off and throws it in a corner of his room. 

He Tian leans back, probably to take in the sight of his naked torso, but then he fucking freezes. He does nothing but stay there and look, hovering over him like a cloudy sky.

Guan Shan is ready to aggressively order him to continue, in fact, he's sure he will take great pleasure in it, but then he realizes.

Fuck.

The bruises. Hematomas on his body, not numerous but eerily wide, the center of them purpling already. 

Last night-

The man-

He doesn't want to think about it.

He Tian shouldn't think about it either.

“You should see the other guy.” He tries weakly. He Tian doesn't answer.

“Come on, hurry up. They're only gonna get uglier.” A pause. “The one in my cheek too.” He adds with cruel delight. He wants to rouse He Tian up so much that he will act, move past this, forget it as quickly as Guan Shan himself wants to forget it. But it doesn't work this time. He Tian doesn't bulge.

“Who did this?” He asks, tone menacing.

“He Tian, come on, get back here.” He extends his arms. He Tian doesn't react.

“Who did this?” Fuck, he is not letting this go, is he?

“I'll only tell you where they come from if you make me forget they exist.” Guan Shan whispers.

It works. He Tian fucking moves again. 

He takes off his own top in one fluid motion and comes back down, taking Guan Shan's lips again. Their chests are touching, Guan Shan can feel his heartbeat against his skin like a feverish drum.  
He breaks the kiss only to kiss He Tian's jaw. He Tian arches his head to give him a wider playground, and Guan Shan happily bites down the firm skin beneath his Adam's apple. He Tian moans shamelessly in return.

With Guan Shan still teeth deep into his neck, he leaves one chaste kiss to Guan Shan's forehead, out of place in its innocence.  
Then he moves downwards, kisses Guan Shan's nose, his neck, and the middle of his torso.  
Then he lets his tongue trace a sensitive path from here to Guan Shan's nipple. He keeps his mouth pressed against it, while his tongue swirls across the sensitive nub. He looks up at Guan Sahn, full of lust.  
Fuck. Guan Shan feels lightheaded.

"He Tian..."  
As if summoned by his name, He Tian comes back, plants a quick kiss to Guan Shan's lips, and then goes immediately back down. This time, he doesn't stop before he's head level to Guan Shan's cock. Guan Shan understands what he's going for, but he is so inebriated by lust that he reacts only after He Tian gives an impatient tug to his pants. With shaky hands, he pulls them down, and, with shaky legs, he kicks them away.

He tilts his head to the aside, unable to look for a moment.  
But, as always, He Tian is not forgiving.

"Mo-zai. Look at me." Guan Shan looks and it's as overwhelming as he thought he was. He Tian is looking back at him, his expression both menacing and satisfied. He keeps eye contact as he lowers his mouth to Guan Shan's cock and begins to blow on it. Guan Shan wants to scream already.

He begins by tentative licks, slow and pressing, still looking at Guan Shan with hooded eyes.

"Fuck, He Tian, don't be a dick-Ah!"  
He can't do anything but moan and throw his head back as He Tian takes him in his mouth, covering the part of his cock he can't reach with a warm, enormous hand. He starts bobbing his head up and down, sometimes with a low hum that Guan Shan can feel in his fucking marrow.

“He Tian-”

Between his legs, He Tian answers with an appreciative hum that goes straight to his cock.  
It's too much, Guan Shan can't fucking look, it-s too much-

"Look, Mo-zai, or I'm stopping." He feels He Tian's breath against the sensitive skin oh his cock.

Guan Shan looks down. Between the pale lines of his legs, He Tian's dark head is moving rhythmically, and the morning sun runs across the strands of hair, across the exquisite broadness of his shoulders. It makes him a picture of shadows and light, a sort of gothic apparition completely devoted to his pleasure. Guan Shan has never seen anything sexier.

He Tian pulls back just to smile at him and then swallows him in like a black hole swallows stars.  
Guan Shan's head feels dizzy, a million tiny sparkles numb his hands and threaten to invade his arms. He's made of constellations, stars tingling on his skin.  
He lets out a guttural moan and slips his fingers into He Tian's hair.

But God, he feels like he's going to come, and the barrier between the puissance of his orgasm and falling apart is so paper-thin. Is he starting to be anxious again?

“He Tian-” He tries to warn. He Tian straightens his head to properly look at him. Guan Shan doesn't say anything more. His stomach is burning, he feels like his blood became cotton in his legs. But apparently he doesn't need to say anything. He Tian gets it.  
“Let it happen to you.” He whispers against the skin of his lower stomach before taking him in his mouth once again.

Guan Shan does. He arches his back and lets the constellations on his skin explode. His consciousness fades but his body was never as present as it is now. He feels every part of him struck by pleasure, the bruises turning into pools of dazzling gold, his voice morphing into a long, screamed moan.

He stays here, surrounded by the weightlessness of his own body, until He Tian, looking down at him with a smug smile that would piss him off in any other circumstances, asks him:  
“How was it?”

How was it?  
How was it?

Fuck. 

Guan Shan became God for a minute. That's how it fucking was.

“I'll show you how it was. Sit.” He says, before pushing himself off the bed.

He Tian eagerly sits at the side of the bed, and Guan Shan gets on his knees between his legs.

Even if the erection is still clothed, it's already a fucking sight. It's pushing against the fabric of the pants, as if it were desperate to get free. He nuzzles the bulge tenderly. It's warm like a wound.

"Mo-zai."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll suck you dry in a second, don't worry." Guan Shan says, voice casual as he unzips He Tian's pants and pulls the hard cock from his boxers.

Fuck, it's... well, let's say, for a giant like He Tian, it's proportional.  
And it's ready fully hard, precum glistening at the tip.

Unable to control himself, he nibbles on the tip hungrily. “Don't use your teeth.” He Tian hisses.

Guan Shan lets the head go after one long lick against the slit.“What? You think I'll bite your dick off?”

He Tian eyes him suspiciously.

“I _think_ you're insane when you're angry, so excuse me for not really trusting your sanity when you're turned on.”

That's the hottest dirty talk Guan Shan has ever heard.  
Shit.  
Something is really fucked up in his brain.

“Well, I guess it's just a risk you'll have to take, right?” Guan Shan smiles against the smooth surface of the head, still maintaining eye contact.

He Tian still considers him wearily, but Guan Shan felt the little twitch his cock gave just now against his lower lip.  
Satisfied, Guan Shan takes him whole in one hungry motion. His throat tightens instantly around He Tian's member and his eyes already begin to tear up, but he never thought he would feel like he feels right now. Like it's where he's supposed to be.  
He Tian's flavor invades his mouth. It's so fucking animalistic, it gives Guan Shan the same satisfaction as the metallic taste of blood after a good fight.  
Fuck. He might get hard again.  
He Tian's long, strangely high-pitched moan is not helping.

He takes him as far as he can, nose brushing against the dark hairs of his crotch, hollows his cheeks and lets go with a wet pop.  
Above him, He Tian makes the most delicious sounds. He also looks down at him like he's eatable. The sight and the sounds go right to Guan Shan's head, filling it with dizziness yet again.  
So he does that again: he takes him to his mouth until he feels him at the back of his throat, sucks, and let go.

When he's about to let go for the third time, HeTian's hand grips his hair and guides him closer to his crotch. Normally, Guan Shan hates this, but now it only makes him moan around He Tian's cock. Encouraged by Guan Shan's moan, He Tian presses harder, and bucks into his eager mouth a few times before letting go. Guan Shan pulls away, breathless, throat burning. And whatever bullshit He Tian was going to say turns into a broken grunt as Guan Shan starts sucking at his balls.

“I'm close, Mo-zai.” Guan Shan is fucking grateful to hear that, not because he didn't like what he was doing, but precisely because he was starting to enjoy it too much. He doesn't want to get hard by sucking another dude's dick but he is seconds to. The stars threaten to reappear on his skin, the tip of his fingers is already tingling, a phantom warmth is crawling in his lower stomach. So he goes back to sucking He Tian's member, keeping his lips firmly shut around the head.

When He Tian comes, his moan almost sounds like a sob, like he's ready to burst into tears. The muscle of his thighs twitch under Guan Shan's hands and Guan Shan closes his eyes as warm, bitter fluid fills his mouth.  
He lets go of He Tian's softening cock, giving it a last, very light nibble, barely a graze of teeth. He Tian shivers deliciously at the threatening contact. Then, opening his eyes again, he gets up, legs still trembling from the pleasure, and crashes next to He Tian.

He Tian looks at him, and they both see the messed up hair, the teary eyes, and the red, swollen lips of their lover. “Now we're even.” He says smugly.

“Fuck you.” Guan Shan whispers. He Tian gives him a kiss shaped like a smile and tasting like himself.

“Don't fall asleep.”

A noncommital hum. This bastard sounds almost half-asleep already. Guan Shan is about to pass out too-

“Who did this?”

Ah. Maybe He Tian isn't as sleepy as Guan Shan initially thought.

“I wanna leave.”Guan Shan says in lieu of a response. He doesn't look at He Tian's expression, but the arms around him tighten. 

Guan Shan slaps his forearm lightly, trying not to savor the pouty, protective gesture too much “Not leave this, dumbass... I wanna stop doing that. I wanna quit.”

He Tian's arms relax instantly. “Why can't you?”

Guan Shan snorts and turns, facing He Tian now. “You really have to ask?” He says in an even voice.

He Tian stays silent for a few seconds, looking at Guan Shan's marred skin as if it held some sort of secrets. “What happened?”

The man-

Shit. He doesn't want to remember.  
But he has to, hasn't he?  
His clenched fist as Guan Shan's fingers manage to tear the skin on his shoulder-  
His crass voice, the strength in his arms as he tried to-  
The kind of people who sees sex workers as an excuse for violent tendencies. Because, when you pay for a body, you can do whatever you want to it, right? It belongs to you.  
Wrong.  
Guan Shan fucking showed him. He struggled like he was ready to die in this. Maybe he was.  
In the end, the bastard was tired of fighting, of having to "struggle for some bitch he paid for" and left Guan Shan flee. With an unblemished ego but a skin tingling with new, painful bruises.  
And She Li knew it would happen. She Li made it happen, She Li let it happen.

He doesn't want to tell He Tian that.

“It was a punishment, sort of.”

"A punishment? Mo-zai, this isn't a fucking punishment, it's a crime."

“How rich of you to say that. I'm sure you never committed a crime in your whole fucking life.” He Tian doesn't respond to the accusation. Instead, he scoots clothes and kisses Guan Shan's shoulder. 

"I could help you leave. Protect you-"

“No, fuck I don't want that either! Don't you get it?”

"No, Mo Guan Shan, I don't get it." It's the first time He Tian is calling him by his whole name. Guan Shan resents the fact that he noticed. He sits up, He Tian spreading his arms to allow the movement.

“I don't want to stop being his toy just so I can become yours. You wanna be a knight? Buy a fucking sword, a pony strong enough to carry your fucking ego and leave me out of it.”

“Whose toy?”  
Shit. Guan Shan needs to shut up, sometimes.

“I met a guy, long ago. A guy very good at pretending he's nice. And I was a fucking idiot. I'm not doing the same thing twice with you.”

“Is he the one who did it?”

"Not exactly."

He Tian stays silent. Guan Shan lets him. He really wishes he wanted He Tian to stay silent. But, really, he wants He Tian to keep asking questions. He fears it, as well.  
But the newt thing coming out of He Tian's mouth isn't a question. It's a tranquil affirmation. 

“Okay, then. Let me help you for me.”

"What?"

He Tian sits up and lays a heavy arm around Guan Shan's shoulders. “You're right. I want to stroke my ego by helping you. It feels really good." He laughs when he catches Guan Shan's accusing glare. “So if you let me do this, it will be for my benefit as well. Helping you is my payment so you can let me live out my fantasy of being someone good. You won't owe me anything. Do you understand?”

Guan Shan considers him quizzically. “So you want to help me so you can suck your own dick even harder?”

He Tian laughs. “I mean, you're already taking good care of the "sucking my dick" part, aren't you?”

"Fuck off." Guan Shan answers, trying to push him off. He Tian doesn't move even an inch.

"Seriously, think about this. I'm not using you more or less than you'll use me. Another transaction, between us. That's all it needs to be. No refunds, no interests. Just us."

Guan Shan considers it.  
He supposes if they put it this way, that it's acceptable. 

He can't believe he is even considering leaving.  
But he is.  
Fuck. He could go back to having a normal job. It would pay less, but he'll accept it gladly. Maybe he could start studying again-  
He can't let it overwhelm him. He's not even free yet.  
If he wants to think about the future, he has to leave She Li first.  
And if he does that... He might need Tian. He will need He Tian.  
Fuck.

“You know what, fuck it. Okay, I'm leaving. With or without your help. It's the last fucking straw, anyway. She Li had it coming.” Guan Shan doesn't register the dangerous glint lighting up in He Tian's eyes as he learns She Li's name.

“But just to be clear, I'm the one who acts. You can just stay in the background with your scary ass aura, like the vulture you are. But you don't intervene unless I say so, okay?” Guan Shan adds, pointing his finger at He Tian menacingly.

He Tian looks at the raised finger with fondness and gives the tip a quick peck.  
His reddening bruise is on the right cheek, like it's mirroring Guan Shan's.  
They match, now.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> I sure enjoyed witing it :)
> 
> The next chapter might take a little while- I'm writing a Tianshan one shot, a very different vibe from this one.  
> Stay tuned!


	9. Nota bene

Hello everyone !

First of all, sorry for being silent for so long.   
I had to travel a lot the past weeks and was desperately away from my beloved computer.

Now that I'm back, I have to take some time to get back into the writting process of this fanfic.   
I am not abandoning it, gods no !  
But I will need to read what I already did and ponder about where exactly I want to go.  
You see, I don't want to rush in and do a botched up job just because I am eager to give you more.  
I want to be careful and give you something I am proud of !

I think I might be able to publish a new chapter at the end of the month !   
And while we're waiting, I have a tianshan one shot almost ready. Although the vibe is completely different. It will be published soon !

And as always, thank you so much for the attention and love you've shown for my work. It means more than you can imagine.

Stay safe and healthy !

Rensual


	10. Of unspoken words and aimless conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan and He Tian promised each other they'll work it out together.
> 
> But at the end of the day, Guan Shan is still Guan Shan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I'll post this chapter in late august?
> 
> Man, good times.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy :)

“What are you doing?” He Tian asks, sleepily, as Guan Shan draws linear patterns on his shoulder.

It must be midday already. The sun, previously suffocating between fat clouds, is now shyly piercing through the white mass of cumulonimbus. They didn't fucking do anything, they barely talked. They just laid there, next to each other. Falling on and off a light doze, staying at the junction of consciousness and sleep without being either completely awake or completely asleep.

But now Guan Shan has woken up, and, next to him, He Tian, eyes closed, is barely asleep, almost awake.

“Writing something on your skin.” He answers, digging the tip of his finger more firmly into his shoulder.

He Tian's eyes open slowly. His smug smile comes to his lips too quickly. “Oh? What are you writing?”

“Focus and you'll be able to tell.”

Guan Shan, with the fingertip of his index, traces “IDIOT” in the meat of He Tian's shoulder.

He Tian looks at him, eyes brimming with mischief. “You wrote “I love He Tian with all my big puppy heart.” ”

Fuck. Guan Shan blushes and turns away.  
He hates this because if he denies it, he knows it will sound like a lie.

Which it isn't, thank you very much.

“You're so fucking delusional.” He groans, pressing his palms against He Tian. He pushes him and gets off the bed. He Tian follows him a while after and Guan Shan can't help but look in awe as He Tian's impressive stature dwarfs his kitchen. Like it isn't him who is out of proportion, but it's the entire world not being big enough.

Guan Shan starts moving around in the kitchen, holds He Tian two mismatched cups, silently urging him to place them on the small kitchen table.

He Tian grabs his wrist and kisses it. As if it was what Guan Shan was handing him.  
How can he manage to find the way to make any gesture embarrassing, Guan Shan will never know.

“The cups, dumbass.”

He Tian chuckles and obeys without a word. He then sits and looks at Guan Shan making coffee, satisfied with seeing him work for him.  
What a fucking prick.

When the coffee is ready and warm, its rich smell slowly invading the small room, Guan Shan sits unceremoniously.

They drink in silence. It's a bit awkward, but Guan Shan finds he actually likes the awkwardness too. It's a part of this morning. It fits.

When the cups are empty, he talks. “I'm going to tell him I quit.” He omits She Li's name, not remembering it already slipped his lips earlier in the morning.

“Are you really?” He Tian asks, peaking up.

“Yeah.”

“What should I do?” He Tian straightens up, and it makes him look even taller. As if he wasn't a fucking giant already.

“I told you, I'm taking care of this. I'll tell you if I need your help. Right now I'll go to him and tell him I'm done. I won't back off, no matter what he says to me.”

He Tian considers it, a frown on his face. “I don't like this plan.”

Guan Shan lays back on his chair. “I don't give a fuck. It's mine.”

He Tian narrows his eyes suspiciously. “If something goes wrong, you'll call me, right? I told you I will help.”

“I fucking know, He Tian. And I already told you you could help me.” Guan Shan mumbles, looking at a little spot of dried coffee on the table.

He Tian looks at him intently and then sighs.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

He Tian shrugs and smiles. It's a helpless, warm crescent.

“Can I say anything that will make you change your mind?”

“No.” Guan Shan says with pride.

When it's time to leave, it becomes awkward again. Guan Shan rigidly raises his hand and wave. "I'm off. See you." He turns around and starts walking towards the best decision he made in his fucking life.

“Wait.” He Tian comes close behind him. Guan Shan expects a kiss on the nape, or maybe even a nose nuzzling the crook of his neck, but instead he feels He Tian's finger writing something on the small of his back.  
He tries to focus on the pattern to understand what he is writing, but he doesn't get it.

“What did you write?” He asks, turning around.

He Tian only looks at him.

“Hey.” He coldly greets when he spots She Li at his desk. She Li raises his head. He gives Guan Shan two seconds of is attention before looking back at his computer.

“Why are you here? I didn't call for you.” He says, talking to his screen.

Off to a great start.

“I'm here because I wanna quit.” Guan Shan stuffs his hands in his pockets, partly because he wants to look casual about this, partly because he doesn't want She Li to notice how much his hands are trembling.

She Li looks utterly unbothered. He taps a few keys on his computer. “Cute. No.”

“I wanna quit.” Guan Shan says again. His voice, thankfully, sounds as steady as a mountain.

She Li sighs, as if he was trying to argue with a stubborn child who doesn't want to go to sleep. 

“Okay.” He mutters.

Guan Shan hates the part of him that believes it's gonna be that easy, but it exists ad right now it makes his heart pound with both anticipation and relief.

“Really?” He asks, doubtful.

“I'll let you go on one condition.” She Li continues.

No matter what this condition is, Guan Shan will do it. He comes closer to the desk and brace himself for She Li's next words.

“Tell me how this will really benefit you.”

She Li presses a key way harder than necessary: it makes reasoning, clicking sound. But he continues talking as if nothing happened.

Guan Shan hears himself make a confused "huh".

“Tell me you'll find a job paying you more, or at least as much. Tell me you'll find somewhere where you can pay off your family's debt, without any diplomas, or significant experience besides a few part-time jobs.”

Shit. It's a fucking trap. She Li knows it's impossible. He knows exactly how to describe the factual reality of this situation in order to make it sound like a dead-end.

When he doesn't hear any answer, She Li smiles. The light of his computer screen reflects on the pointiness of his teeth. “Okay. So you stay.”

“No, listen to me-”

“No, Guan Shan, you listen to me. You had your chance, back when we were in university. You could have gone through with your studies, get a diploma and have a working title that isn't a common insult.”

The typing sound stops but She Li is still not looking at him. “But what did you do? You fucked it all up.”

...

Guan Shan remembers. All the efforts his mom wasted to get him to university. And the drowning guilt he felt because he made her pay so much for him, which pushed him to accept any part-time job offers he could find.  
He thought he could make it, juggle with working and studying. He really, really thought he could shoulder everything.  
But of course, he didn't. He was too tired to focus, most of the days. He lost momentum, and he fell behind. Because directly having money on his hand was way more rewarding to him than the virtual money promised by his studies, he put more attention into doing a good job serving strangers or taking commands, than listening and focussing on the expensive voice of his teachers.

Guan Shan can pinpoint the day it all went to shit.  
He remembers the powdery quality of the rays of sunshine, in the almost-empty library.  
He remembers She Li, sitting next to him. He remembers thinking She Li fascinated him. He had a way of looking at everything with both intensity and calmness that was instantly captivating.  
He remembers himself, whispering away his struggles.

He wasn't gonna pass, he knew it. Too much university work set aside for his jobs.  
He remembers She Li's careful expression when he confessed his desperation for money.  
He remembers what She Li whispered back.

I could offer you a job, he said, but it's not for everyone. You'll earn a lot of money in a few nights. It will leave you enough time to study before the finals.

The hardest part was to decide.  
Guan Shan always thought he wouldn't do that, no matter how low he fell. He never wanted to be the puppet of somebody else, to be used against his will and pride, and he thought it was unconditional. But turns out, it wasn't. It had conditions: the pride of his mother, the disappearance of the crushing fear of all that spent money on college being for nothing.

The easiest part was actually doing it. There was nothing there but the physicality of fucking someone, of being fucked. It was nothing like he feared it would be. Actually, it felt less tiring and not especially less humiliating than serving a bunch of assholes in a local fast-food restaurant.  
So he did it again.  
And again, and again, until one day he woke up and She Li was controlling his life, and the finals were a forgotten, almost foreign concept.  
What a sad, sick joke.

She Li's voice, as thick and immaterial as mist, brings him back to his present. “If you leave, it's gonna be the same thing all over again. You trying, you failing. And although I would love to see you crawl back to me in, say, two months, I just don't have the time. So spare me.”

“I don't care! This time, I'll do it right.”

Guan Shan hears his own voice as if coming from someone else, and it gives him the courage to continue speaking.

“I'll find a way. I'll take off several jobs, even if it drains me until I'm nothing but a fucking mummy. I don't fucking care. I won't work from you anymore.”

Guan Shan comes closer to She LI. “I can' do this anymore.” He admits. He feels strangely defeated, as if he admitted that he is not strong enough. It is surprisingly pleasurable, he finds, to lose. 

She Li finally gives him full attention.

“Mo Guan Shan, you're mine.”

And when She Li says that, he doesn't mean it as the kind of perverted form of love that looks like hate. No, it's the opposite: it's a kind of ressentiment that borderlines fascination. She Li bares him a hate that has all the codes and features of love. Guan Shan never understood why. He gets jealous like a lover, he's receptive and observant like a lover, exclusive like a lover too. But he doesn't love.

“You can't fucking decide my life for me.” Guan Shan answers. His voice isn't a steady now.

“Oh, but I do.” She Li rises from his seat and comes to face him.

“Except if you have a new card in your deck, the situation remains the same. You go away, I'll follow your tracks. I'll send all your future bosses vivid details of what you used to do for a living. Your friends, even your mother. I'll make sure everyone you meet, have met and will meet knows you used to be a whore.”

“I...”

The thing is, Guan Shan doesn't care about what people think. In this world, a lot of people sell worse than their bodies, without even realizing it. But his mother- he doesn't want to risk her knowing it. She'll think it's her fault, she'll blame herself for all his terrible decisions.

“Do you still want to quit?”

“Yes.” He answers honestly.

She Li smiles. “I bet you do. I'll see you Sunday.”

“No.” 

She Li stills.

“No?”

“I won't see you on Sunday. It's over.”  
Guan Shan's voice is as frail as a bird's skeleton, but at least it's there. It's still protesting.

He'll explain to his mom, if worse comes to worst. They'll cry, and it will be horrible, and maybe it will take years before it's good again between them, but he'd rather have these years than one more day under She Li's thumb.

She Li doesn't answer anything. He starts walking towards Guan Shan again, and the glint in his eyes makes him step back until his back is against the wall.  
He pulls up Guan Shan's hoodie, revealing his stomach marred with bruises.

“What are you -Ah!”

She Li's hand, entirely unforgiving, presses as hard as it can against the most purple bruise. The pain is not overwhelming, but it's humiliating because there is nothing Guan Shan can do about it, not really. If he fights back, She Li's little army will counter-attack. The only thing he can do is endure, as the hand presses where it would hurt most, as She Li looks into his pained eyes with obvious pleasure. She Li is making him understand his own helplessness, and it fucking hurts more than anything.

It takes a few seconds for She Li to be satisfied. When he is, he backs off and goes back to his desk, to typing at his computer, as if what happened was nothing but a minor detail of daily life. “See you Sunday. Close the door behind you."

In front of the bar, with shaky legs, Guan Shan stands. He doesn't know what to do. The only thing he can imagine is just not going on Sunday, but then what will happen? He'll get beat up, probably. But if he endures it, and if he doesn't cave, then maybe it would work out, eventually. Eventually...

Guan Shan contemplates calling He Tian. He scrolls down his contact list and stares at the number He Tian gave him earlier today.

But he doesn't press. As he looks at the digits, he can't help but think back at the old library. At the wooden bookshelves, at She Li's voice, at the price to pay for a helping hand.

He slips his phone back into his pocket. He presses his hand against the aching bruise, hoping to soothe it a little. 

It's fine. He can do it alone.  
He'll survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/


	11. Of stains and warm colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He Tian and Guan Shan promised each other they'll work it out together.  
> But, at the end of the day, He Tian is still He Tian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!  
> Prepare your rollercoaster tickets because you're in for a ride!
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading and appreciating my work!

As soon as He Tian sees him, he understands.

She Li is magnetically calm. 

Handsome in a way that is not entirely pleasant, hair thick like a dirty cloud, eyes shining like a dying moon under heavy eyelids.

He knows how to make his nonchalance captivating, He Tian notices. he picture of effortless control, an image so deliciously tempting, for a certain kind of people. People damaged enough to crave the serenity She Li wears like a crown. 

He Tian understands. He also knows how he must be drunk on it, on his own capacity to create a constant web around him, gluing people in until they are so tangled they can't even move a finger on their own. Until every movement they have are the ones he allows.  
He Tian knows, from personal experience, how this power can be more delectable than the finest liquor. He drank on it himself, inevitably weak to it, and stopped, not because of a sudden spur of ethical epiphany, but because he grew bored of that too.

He Tian understands She Li at first glance, and all for the bad reasons: he can see himself clearly, in that stranger. A shell of what he used to be. His old molt.

She Li, as it turns out, is young. Probably closer to Guan Shan's age than his own.  
In this shadowed alley, the orange tip of his cigarette reflects warmly on his features. Around him, thicker, taller, four men with indelicate faces stand silently. They noticed He Tian standing in close proximity, and they keep throwing him hostile and weary looks. She Li is impassible.

He comes closer to him, until they are two feet apart. The other men, obviously some kind of subordinates, frown and shift uncomfortably. She Li stays unbothered, a lake of calmness. 

He Tian leans against the wall, lits a cigarette, watches the smoke going up as he exhales. He thinks about the dirt on the wall staining his jacket. He says: “You're She Li.”

He is not looking at him, and She Li returns the favor. “Who is asking?” His voice is androgynous. It goes well with the thickness of his lashes and the bow of his lips, but it contrasts violently with his height and the long lankiness of his fingers. 

“I am.” He coldly replies.

She Li looks at him now, up and down, picking up clues from his posture, the material of his tie, the quality of his leather shoes. He's not looking at him, he's calculating him. How much money he represents. He Tian knows the look.

“And you are?” 

He Tian gives a toothy grin. “You don't need to know my name.”

She Li doesn't seem frightened in the slightest. It's admirable, in an upsetting kind of way.

“Then, can you at least stop beating around the bush, Mr. Stranger? I'm a busy man. What do you want?”

He Tian inhales. Nicotine moves around his body like a tide. “I'm here to talk about Mo Guan Shan.” He breathes out.

No change in She Li's body language. He Tian continues. “I want you to understand the situation. From now on, he won't work for you anymore. You'll never see him again. This is not negotiable or debatable. Are we clear?”

Still leaning on the wall like he has all the time in the world, She Li chuckles.“What? He hired a bodyguard to scare me?”

“I think you know I'm not one.” He knows he is acknowledging She Li's intelligence. But he's certain that, to a trained eye, he can't be confused with a bodyguard. Money was thrown all his life, by his family, by himself, to make sure that at first glance, everyone can see he is sculpted from a different marble than the rest of them. More precious, more refined. More solid, as well.

“You're not one. You're clearly rich and powerful.” She Li concedes without any nuance of shame or admiration. He takes a long drag from his cigarette and smoke comes out of his mouth like his voice is on fire. “This is why I don't buy it. With all your power, why would you get involved with him? Risk your reputation for a common whore? I don't buy it.”

He Tian says nothing. She Li continues, words and smoke pouring out of his mouth.

“Trust me, I understand. He is very entertaining to me too.” She Li smiles at him, knowing. He Tian does his best to not react. He doesn't want She Li to realize how their similitudes affect him.

“And, sincerely, the only explanation I have for how successful he is with clients is that he is very good at sucking cock.” When his sentence is finished, She Li throws his cigarette on the floor and crushes it with the tip of his shoe.

“But really, what is he except a guy who fucks strangers because it will earn him a handful of yuans.”

 _I used to fuck strangers because I otherwise I had nothing to do but lay down on my bed and not move. I'm not sure it's better_ , He Tian thinks, purposefully ignoring the way his heart gives a resounding, pained pulsation. He doesn't say it. He's not sure his voice will stay steady.

He takes his time, a long drag of his cigarette. There. Steady. “It's not important, what he is. It doesn't concern you anymore, anyways.”

She Li's eyes squint ever so slightly, and He Tian begins to think this is the most reaction he will have from him. But, wordlessly, She Li gives a nod, not to him, and the men around them begin to move.

While three of them surround him, a man, with brutishly wide shoulders, comes closer, his intent clear. His fist is already curled at his side, ready to strike. Effortlessly, He Tian reacts. He blocks the punch and buries his elbow in the guy's ribs. He makes a pained yelp and falls to his knees, drool dripping uncontrollably from his panting mouth.

He nudges him with his foot and warns, looking around him:

“Don't come any closer. It's between your boss and me.”

The three other men freeze and look behind his shoulder, unsure.  
He turns back and She Li is already in position. Both feet angled slightly to the side, staggered, one forearm in front of his solar plexus, the other, offensive, deployed. He knows what he is doing. It's not surprising. 

But He Tian knows what he is doing too, his body immediately tenses up and, with a severe fist, he comes at him.

She Li reacts as if he expected the bow all his life. There is no surprise, just body reflexes, as he dodges and gets in position to strike back.  
But He Tian is quicker, always, he has been made to always be quicker. He hits his stomach with the angular blow of his knee and uses his sudden loss of balance to fall with him on the floor. Towering above him, he smiles and punches. She Li, on the floor, bleeds and looks at him with unpenetrable eyes. Preparing.

Suddenly there is something cold against his neck, and he can easily guess what it is. A knife.

She Li, licking his own blood with obvious triumph, warns him.“You shouldn't move.”

“Try it.” He Tian challenges.

The tip of the knife barely has the time to cut his neck before he pushes it away with a swift move of the hand.  
_Shit_ , he thinks, the skin of his palm tearing up in one ugly bruise, _this is definitely going to leave a stain._

The knife makes a metallic sound as it falls on the floor, away from them. He can see the sinuous patterns his own blood made on the blade. He focuses back to She Li, below him, and presses his hand against She Li's neck and it's clear enough.  
Both of them know, now. He could squeeze, give it a firm snap and it will be over.  
He might be killed by the subordinates, afterward, but that doesn't change a thing.  
In the most primitive, indisputable way, he has won.

But even now, beaten, blood dripping from his nose, She Li still doesn't give anything away. He still, after all of this, looks unbothered.  
And suddenly He Tian gets it, too: it's not because he doesn't want to, it's because he can't.

For a brief second, an image comes up in his mind: Guan Shan's expression, when he was hit, eyes dramatically wide in a way She Li's are not, mouth open in pained surprise while She Li is fatally, eternally close-mouthed.  
Ah.  
_We want what we can have. It's as old as time._

He Tian gets up. Around him, the four men blabber incoherently and move, but neither he nor She Li reacts. He puts his bloodied fist in his pocket, and this time he doesn't think about the stains. Instead, he turns around and gives She Li his final goodbye. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you.”

He Tian can't remember the last time he felt giddy. He associates this bubbly ghost of happiness with his childhood- he felt it each time he behaved well: the good grades he had in school, when he did well in sports, when he was polite and gentleman-like at his father's dinners. The giddiness, then, came from expecting a response, a word, a smile. It disappeared when he realized all of those efforts were, in his family, a prerequisite and not an achievement. No reaction, whatsoever, except the occasional awkward pat on the back from his brother.

And now, more than a decade later, he is giddy. The feeling is nostalgic and sweet in a way it never was before.

 _I saved him_ , he thinks.

As soon as he left She Li, he took the route to Guan Shan's apartment, suddenly the most natural road in the world. He finds Guan Shan outside, sitting on the stairs, in an oversized orange sweater. Such a warm color, as if he was wearing He Tian's giddiness. He was clearly lost in his thoughts and jumps a little when he sees He Tian.

He looks at him and says nothing, just shifts a little to the right.  
He Tian understands the silent invite and sits next to him.

Guan Shan doesn't seem to realize he is injured. He is, although not severely. The bruise on his neck is superficial. A scratch that's already dry, probably gone in a week. The one on his hand, not serious enough to leave a permanent scar, is still quite deep. In his pocket, it's still bleeding.

"What are you doing outside?" He asks, after a few minutes of contemplative silence.

Guan Shan shrugs. "I just needed some fresh air." 

He hums. Well, clearly he needs to worm the information out of Guan Shan. “Did you talk to She Li? Did it work?”

“Yeah”, he says.  
Liar.

“Really?” He Tian pushes.

“Yeah. It's okay. I'm free, now.” Guan Shan keeps his eyes low and his voice even. He is a very bad liar, He Tian thinks fondly.  
Well then. It's not time to "beat around the bush", as She li would say.

“Are you gonna ask me how my day went?”

Before Guan Shan can spit the snarky response He Tian is sure he has in store, he raises his hand and reveals the long, angry-red cut. And he can't help the sparks of joy as he sees Guam Shan's worried expression. 

“What the fuck? He Tian, what happened?” As if on instinct, Guan Shan takes his hand and presses the hem of his sleeve against the wound. There is nothing sanitary about that, but it makes the pain feel like an accomplishment. 

“I took care of it.” He says breathlessly while looking at this panicked kid ruining a sweater for cleaning his wound.

Fingers still firmly pressed against his open palm, Guan Shan eyes him suspiciously. “You took care of what?”

“She Li. He won't bother you anymore.”

He doesn't expect Guan Shan to have a good reaction. In all honesty, he expects him to yell, to be angry, to scream at him. To be fair, he wasn't exactly faithful to their engagements. But then again, Guan Shan wasn't either.

So he braces himself and happily waits for a burst of anger, readying for the detonation of a scream or a raised fist. So giddy, in his expectation that Guan Shan will be angry, angry to be relieved. Angry to be thankful. 

But Guan Shan does none of that.  
He looks at He Tian and he looks heartbroken.  
He lets go of his hand.

“You did what?”

“It's okay, Mo-zai.” He reassures. Of course it is. How can he not see it? Why does he sound so small?

“You don't know that!” Guan Shan gets up suddenly. He steps away from He Tian.

_No. This is not how the story is supposed to go._

“It is!" He Tian insists, raising up. "I met him-” 

“-You met him...” Guan Shan repeats, shadows of his own words, coated with stupor and fear.

“Yes, after you did. Mo-zai, he wasn't going to let you go. You know it, right?” He reaches for Guan Shan's nape but is denied immediately by a brisk move of shoulder. He continues: “I threatened him, and told him to stay away from you and it worked! Can't you see?”

Guan Shan is staring at him, not saying anything. He looks scared, doubtful- worse, he looks betrayed.

“He won't bother you again.” He Tian says as solemnly as he can.

“...What guarantee do you have?” Ghan Shan finally says.

“I deal with guys like this all the time. I know him.”

“You fucking don't.”

Why does Guan Shan have to make everything so complicated? Is it that hard to accept a good thing, to him? “I do. What do you think? He's a coward. He won't come to you now that he knows there will be consequences.”

Still with wide, betrayed eyes, Guan Shan stays stubborn. “You know nothing, about him, about me. Who gave you the right?”

Annoyed, He Tian snaps back.“I gave it to myself. You weren't going to give it anyway, were you?” He won't be the bad guy, here, not when Guan Shan was so childish he was ready to stay miserable his whole life instead of asking for help.

“Of course, I wasn't! You don't get to suck a cock and then instantly get the right to fuck up my life, you fucking freak!”  
As if punctuating his scream, Guan Shan's phone starts to ring.

For a moment they stay silent, confronted, and then Guan Shan looks at the caller's ID.  
Then everything shifts, because if Guan Shan looked scared, before, he looks petrified now. Still, stuck into a position of dreadful stupor.  
When He Tian is about to ask if this is She Li calling him, Guan Shan answers the call.

“Hello, mom?”  
His mother? Why-  
Oh.

He Tian can't make out his mother's words but he can perfectly understand the tonal shifts of her voice. She's scared.  
Oh, shit.

“Listen to me, please calm down; It's gonna be okay, you hear? Go to a friend's house and stay here. I'm on my way. Don't go out, okay? Promise me.” Guan Shan speaks very clearly, but his hands are shaking.  
Some more intelligible words on the other side. It sounds like stammering.

Guan Shan swallows and takes a few seconds before responding. “Yeah. Yeah, you too, be careful. No, I swear this is going to be okay.” As he says this in a very confident tone, He Tian can clearly see his expression, how helpless, hopeless it is.

"Love you too. See you soon." Guan Shan hangs up and, without casting him a single look, walks away quickly. 

_This is not how it's supposed to go._ He Tian thinks again.  
Without hesitation, he catches up to him. He can make this right if only Guan Shan lets him in.

“What happened?” He asks. Guan Shan doesn't respond, he keeps moving forward.

“Mo-zai.” He Tian insists, grabbing his forearm.

Finally, He looks at him. “Don't fucking touch me! You've done enough.”

“Why are you still doing that?" He Tian asks desperately. "Talk to me. If you did, you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.”

Guan Shan considers him, incredulous.“Really? Wow. So this is my fault?”

He frowns. “I'm not saying-”

“No, you're right. It is my fault. God, I am so fucking stupid. Why did I even talk to you?”

He Tian doesn't say anything. He tries and tries to find a sentence to make him trust him. But Guan Shan speaks before he finds it.

“Leave me alone. Stay here. I have to go find my mom.” 

He Tian doesn't let go. In fact, he squeezes harder, and blood is coating Guan Shan's forearm.

“Just this once, I am begging you... listen to me.” Guan Shan pleads. It's the first time he hears Guan Shan plead. It's words made of unshed tears. It's entirely disarming.

It's hard, in fact, it's awful, because it means he will be left alone with himself. And there will be nothing but raw guilt towards Guan Shan, and bitter hate towards himself. It will be horrible if he stays,  
but he lets go of Guan Shan.  
He stays.

He Tian stays, and looks at Guan Shan going away, and his warm-colored shape shrinks to a thin line, then dot, then nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D:
> 
> PS:  
> A little note about what exactly I am trying to get across if you're interested in a little clarification/ explanation!  
> The main idea is: Guan Shan and He Tian don't trust each other.  
> Guan Shan doesn't trust that He Tian will help him without a heavy price to pay, and He Tian doesn't think Guan Shan will let him help.  
> They're both terrified of that, one of needing someone and the other of not being needed. Both fears, of course, come from deeply rooted traumas.  
> And both fears lead them to go in this situation completely alone, thinking they can manage the consequences, which is not true at all, on both accounts.  
> The only way out was trust.  
> It might still is.  
> We'll see.


	12. Of Phonecalls and Phonecalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your wait is finally over: there is the new chapter!!
> 
> It took a while to write, first because I wanted to do it right, second because I am DROWNING in work. Please send a lifebuoy.
> 
> Also, the more 19 days progresses, the more He Tian is turning into Guan Shan's legit sugar daddy. How 'bout that.

Guan Shan is going to run out of fingernails if he keeps this up.  
Well, he thinks half-hysterically, teeth sunk into the tip of his thumb, I'll probably lose my mom, so I might lose my fingernails too. A two-for-one deal, today.

_No, she's okay, remember. Read the text again._

On the train home, completely obvious to anything but his thoughts, he unlocks his phone and read the text again and again.

**Mom: I'm at a coworker's house, with his family. Call me when you can. I'll text you his address, let's meet here.  
I called the police. Everything will be fine, so don't do anything reckless.**

He knows his mother as well as if he created her. In a sense, he was a mother too, in their relationship. He had to take care of her, to make sure she was safe, protected. He worked as soon as he could for her, he cooked for her. When she was sick, he pressed his tiny hands against her brow with maternal worry. He knows her like a son, he knows her like a mother. That's why he can dissect the choice of her words for what they are: empty reassurance, the bandaid of white fear. The same kind of things she said, all those years ago, before she closed the door and left him in the supply closet, with nothing but the distant sound of his childhood word shattering.

When she called him, back in He Tian's place, she sounded like that too. She told him, both alarmed and comforting, how men came up in front of her apartment and just stayed here. Not knocking, not moving. Just making sure she knew they were outside. A menace without execution.

Of course, she linked it to the troubles they still have with debt. It wasn't the first time it happened- strange men, hostile, vulgar, not above hitting a fifteen-year-old, guarding their house as a kind reminder that the due money was still hanging above their head like the blade of a guillotine. But over the years, soothed by the regularity of the payments, they didn't bother showing up anymore.

No, this is different.  
This is She Li, aiming for the heart.

He jumps from the train and runs, runs, runs in the blur of people and cars and dogs until breathless, he is in front of his past apartment.

Coming back to his childhood apartment- his second childhood, the one after the supply closet- is like scratching a phantom limb. Even now, as the elevator goes up and up, toward them, the men, She Li, he still feels a rush of nostalgia for things that never really left him. The yellow lights of the hall. The local band stickers on the mailboxes. The lingering smell of all the cooked meals of all the apartments, blending together in one ghostly, universal odor.  
It's still there, and it always was. It sits with fear, with dread and anger, next to him, in this tiny elevator.

The elevator opens on them. Five men. She Li is not here. Guan Shan doesn't recognize any of them. They're in the front of the door, nonchalantly scary.  
Of course, the cops didn't make them go away, if they showed up at all. He walks up to them, and rage, fear and nostalgia burn in him.

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” He growls. 

“She Li is very pissed, you know.” One of them says. He has strangely wide green eyes. He looks deceivingly nice, and he talked like it was a private joke and not a matter of punishment.

“I don't give a damn. Go away.” Guan Shan answers, jaw squared. 

“Is that true that you send a client to fight him? Dude, that's hilarious!” An other guy says, before barking a shrill laughter. The sound is crude, obscene, so incredibly out of place, that Guan Shan almost shudders in disgust.

“What the fuck is hilarious about this situation ?” 

Green-Eyes puts a hand on his shoulder and says, deceivingly sweet, “Calm down. Let's get you back to She Li.” This guy is way too excited. His smile, all-knowing, is way too wide. He holds Guan Shan with the gentleness of a priest for the sacrificial lamb.

_He Tian, what the fuck is going to happen to me?  
And why the fuck am I thinking about you? Go away._

He takes the hand on his shoulder and twists it viciously. The sound of Green-Eyes's pained yelp is a fucking Mozart symphony.  
It backfires, of course, and just because he expected it doesn't mean he controlled it, because soon he finds himself against the door of his former home, a hand on his neck, two against each wrist.

"Now, you're going to calm down, okay? We don't want to create any kind of trouble to this lovely neighborhood." Even with his hand on his neck, even with the pain he must feel on his abused wrist, Green-Eyes is jovial. With his free hand, he reaches for his phone.

"Why don't I call our mutual friend? To say that I found you. Then we'll see what he tells me to do to you and your charming mother." He cheerfully says. 

_No. He Tian, what should I do?_

“Give me the phone.” He says, struggling. The guy doesn't say anything. He presses a button and glues the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” He greets gleefully when someone on the other line picks up.

“Give me the phone. I wanna talk to him.” Guan Shan insists

Green-Eyes squeezes harder around his neck."Ah- yes, he's here. Just in front of me. He just asked me to give him the phone.”

He didn't ask. It was a fucking order. He'll rip all of their hands off if he has to.

Suddenly, something in Green-Eyes changes. He looks uncertain. “... You sure? O-Okay. Okay.”

And with that, he releases Guan Shan and hands him over the phone. He glares harshly at the other men who release Guan Shan as well with confused gestures.

Guan Shan receives the phone with precaution. He looks at it, then at the men, who all have varying degrees of hesitation on their faces.

If he has to talk to She Li, he has to do it privately.  
On his keychain, he still has the key to this apartment, which he always keeps like a talisman.  
With swift motions, he unlocks the door, opens it, and slams it behind him.  
He rushes to his room. He can hear, even from there, the men banging on the door, clearly furious.

He sits on his old bed, just on the corner, like he did so many times before.  
He looks at the phone. He knows why She Li allows him that. He wants to hear him beg, humiliated, desperate. He brings the phone to his ear. There is not a sound on the other line.

“She Li.”

“....” Silence. But he is there, Guan Shan knows it. It's a breathing silence. A dark hole, in which he can sense the stalking beast, without seeing it.

_I won't beg. I can't beg, He Tian.  
You're still here.  
Why aren't you leaving? _

She Li isn't leaving either. He was there, he's there, still.  
But it's not the same, is it? Because he's scared that She Li will be here forever, and he's scared He Tian...

_Are you really staying? I'm so scared you won't. Can I trust it?_

He can. He-  
Fuck, he can. He'll try.

He speaks. “She Li, f you do anything to me, or to my mom, he'll come back. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

“...” Silence, still.

“And he'll skin you alive.”

“....”

“Is this worth it that much? You'd be giving him a lesson, that's for sure. He'll look very stupid, standing there all surprised and sorry, when he finds out his way of protecting me cost me... everything.”

“....”

“But you'll look even more stupid, and surprised, and sorry, when he rips your balls off, because he will, She Li, he will. I can guarantee it.”

He can't, he absolutely can't, but he can choose to believe it.

_I really, really fucking want to believe it, He Tian._

“Am I only worth that much to you? Really? You'll take so much risks for this?” 

“....” The silence is something else, now, Guan Shan can feel it. it's not room left for begging, it's the void left by the absence of answers. Guan Shan knows She Li, and he knows that right now, She Li has nothing left to say.

“I thought so.” Guan Shan concludes, rising from his bed.

He goes back to the door. “Goodbye, She Li.” And he opens the door. He throws the phone to Green-Eyes, who catches it and slams the door again. Then, it's the door he presses against his ear, like a phone, and he listens to his future unfold. It can go both ways, right now.

_Either I'm right or I'm fucked.  
But you'll be here in any case, right?_

“Hello? Sir, what did- Oh, Yes.”

SIlence.

“Really? You-.... okay. Okay.”

Silence.

"We're leaving."

"What? But the whor-"

"We're leaving. Now. Orders."

He hears them leave. They left.  
He left.  
She Li left.

Then tears fall, and he falls with them.

He hugs his mother, cries with her, cooks with her and eats with her, in her apartment. But he does all this with a kind of distance. He's somewhere else. What happened keep replaying in his mind. Is She Li gone? He knows the answer but doesn't dare to think it, as if it would break the spell. He stays here, on the verge of victory, not daring to touch it, as if afraid by it.  
Something else goes round and round in his mind. He Tian. He has to talk to him. He has to apologize, he has to tell him what happened. He has to say thank you.

On the bed, at night, he fiddles with his phone for hours. Fuck. How do people even communicate their feelings without yelling them in a burst of anger?

You know what, fuck it. He calls He Tian.

He Tian picks up after the third ring. “Hey.” His voice is so tired, like an old fire.

“Hey.” He answers.

Okay. What should he say now? He should apologize for yelling at him earlier.  
_How do you even apologize?_

“I shouldn't have called you a freak earlier.” He tries.

A sigh, long like a river. “Momo.” 

Yeah, okay, that wasn't great. He tries again. “Everything is alright, by the way.”

A violent intake of breath “Really?” God, he sounds so fucking hopefully. Shit.

“I- I told him that... that if he didn't leave me alone, you'll come and fuck him up.” 

“Oh?”

He Tian's pleased tone makes him relax a little more. He didn't even realize he was clenching his toes. “Yeah. Depictions of torn genitals were involved. Very gruesome.”

A burst of deep laughter. Fuck, what a sound. “I'm sure you can paint quite a picture.”

“You bet I can.”

“So he'll- you're free? Just like you wanted?”

Is he? He is. He knows it. But he doesn't feel it yet. It's so huge he can't grasp the whole reality. He's inside the feeling, but the feeling isn't inside of him yet. He's trapped in something too big for him. “I guess.”

He Tian hums. “Was it scary, to need me that much?”

What the fuck.  
Is he psychoanalyzing him? Right in the middle of the moment they were having? The two can play that game. “Was it scary to want to be needed?”

Stunned silence. then: “You know me well.”

Silence again. But it's nothing like earlier. Because in front of Sh Li, Guan Shan felt scared, determined, certain. Now, he feels awkward. Fearless, but oh-so awkward. What the fuck can they say? He doesn't want things to be weird between them now. Everything is floating since She Li's phonecall and He Tian can ground him. 

A rustle. Oh, Guan Shan knows that sound. He Tian is wearing that, he can bet. The satin atrocity. The pajamas. It hits him like an epiphany: There is a common ground he can land on. Teasing each other is kind of their routine, after all. “What are you wearing?” He asks, mentally preparing tasty remarks about the satin ensemble.

“....Oh my, how lewd, Shan-Shan...” He Tian's voice is suddenly so deep, so rich, so suave. What the fuck is happening?

“What?”

“You're trying to have phone sex with me? After all of this? Indecent little thing.”

The fuck is wrong with this guy? “What the fuck? No! I just wanted to laugh at your stupid satin shit again, okay? Stop making up stuff!”

“Hm-hm, well I'm currently taking my stupid satin shit off-” More rustling sounds.

“-Stop-”

“And now I'm laying naked. On my bed.”

“You're kidding.”

His phone emits one single vibration and Guan Shan looks at the screen. He Tian sent him a picture. It's a picture of himself naked on the bed, more specifically a picture of his lower stomach and his bare legs, with his soft cock resting gloriously on the junction of his thighs.

“You-”

“Like it?”

“I'm on my childhood bed, you prick. My mom is, like, in the other room.” Technically her room is on the other side of the living room, so there is little to no chance she can hear a thing, but still. 

“That's not a no.”

“You want to have phone sex-”

“You started it.”

“I did NOT.”

“That's okay, baby. I can finish it. What are you wearing?” Guan Shan thinks about it for a while. He guesses sex is another common ground. New, but still. He feels comfortable with that. Feels more grounded already.

“Just a T-shirt and some boxers.”

“Do you think you can take those off?”

Yeah, probably. Guan Shan undresses quietly in his room. And there he is, naked, having a booty call with a dangerous man, possibly a big-shot of the mafia, in his old bed. His past self would have freaked.

“Did you do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I get a picture?” 

In response, Guan Shan snorts. He Tian laughs, frustrated. “You're very cruel. But that's okay. I just have to picture you. Lying own, naked... completely at my mercy.”

“Who's at your mercy?” Guan Shan challenges.

“You. You are. You're on the bed, I'm above you, running my hands down your chest...”

“Fuck.” God, Guan Shan can feel himself harden already. He reaches down and starts stocking himself in lazy movements.

"I want to feel you, kiss your neck, lick your cute little nipples-" What is wrong with Guan Shan's body? It's just words but he feels He Tian, next to him, the ghosts of the movements he's describing.  
He doesn't feel distant anymore.

"He Tian, fuck-"

"I'll caress your legs, spread them-"

Oh, God-"Yeah-"

"So I can devour you better." Guan Shan is fully hard right now, gripping the sheets as he speeds up. with the corner of his eye, he catches his phone's screen. it's still displaying He Tian's cock. Guan Shan licks his lips. He, he 

_Just say it and get it over with_

"Shit, I really want you inside me."

"Go on- Please." He Tian's voice has changed. is so fucking deep and strained, now. If Guan Shan didn't know better, he'd think there is a problem with his phone.

"I just... I don't know- I really fucking want to. I never really wanted it so much before..." As he speaks, his fingers travel down, and, slick with precum, he pushes a finger gently inside.

"I wish I were there. I really, really fucking do."

"Me to. I want to-ah! I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Are you fingering yourself right now?"

Well, he is, two fingers deep actually, but the acknowledgment of this fact is so fucking embarrassing. His whole face is on fire. "Shut up!"

He Tian seems to think his embarrassment is fucking hot, because he loses every semblance of control. His voice is vibrating with desire."Fuck. Fuck, Mo-zai, I'll fuck you so hard. I'll bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you can't move anymore."

"That's... haah-" Guan Shan fucks himself deeper, harder.

"Or I'll make you beg for it. I won't move, just watch as you fuck yourself on my cock."

Guan shan is so fucking close, he'll actually, literally explose.

"Then I'll fuck you like you deserve. Deep and fast, until it's morning. Then you'll be too fucked out to do anything, I'll clean you up because you have been such a good boy-"

There is something, in the blending of sweet domesticity and obscene depictions of what is going to be done with his body, that is hotter than anything. Guan Shan mufflers his voice in his pillow and comes, silently screaming, until he stops trembling until he can open his eyes again.

Until he can hear He Tian's smug voice again."Did it make you come?"

God, this guy is so fucking embarrassing. Does he want Guan Shan to say it? No way. "Shut the fuck up. It's... shut the fuck up!"

“Mo-zai... You're so cute. Mo-zai, Mo-zai...” He Tian sounds close too.

“He Tian...”

“Call me-Ah! Call me that again.”

“He Tian?”

“No... Tian.”

Guan Shan didn't call him that. He supposes he called him so breathlessly that the family name dissipated into a silent whisper. But he is glad for this because it makes He Tian sound incredible: a strange mixture of childishness and stern dominance.

“Tian.” He calls, and the name reverberates in his room, recovers the walls like paint. He Tian makes a desperate sound as he comes, and Guan Shan listens to him unravel. When it's over, it's only silence on the other side.

“You're still there?”

"..."

No answer. Is he Tian asleep? Or maybe he's just enjoying the aftermath... Will he hear Guan Shan, if he said it right now? Probably not.

Ah, fuck it. He'll say it anyway. He'll gamble again.  
He'll believe.

"He Tian?"

"..."

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Stay safe and stay tuned, and don't forget to leave kudos and comments, if you feel so inclined ;)


	13. Of calathea and lack of sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guan Shan goes back to town.  
> More precisely, he goes back to He Tian.  
> More precisely, he goes back to He Tian's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
> The holiday season kept me busy, so I didn't have any time to write. But here is the new chapter!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> Also, I'm really late with my replies to your comments, sorry about it :/ But be assured I read them all and they all bring me a lot of joy <3

When he leaves the next day, his mother hugs him on the station platform.

As a kid, he felt protected by this embrace, shielded by a stronger person who wanted to keep him safe and warm. Now, it's the opposite: he feels fiercely, almost aggressively protective, because he has become the taller one. He used to fail when he tried to connect his own hands on his mother's back when they held. But now his fingers are long enough to fully feel the frailty of her bones when they rest on her back.  
He hugs her, and he thinks very hard about how much he loves her. He hopes she can hear. He hopes she knows he's sorry he can't say it. And as always, when he leaves, the smallest part of him stays with his mom. 

When the train arrives at his station, he jumps on the platform, this one devoid of motherly affection, and thinks about his options.  
Not in the long term, hell, he can't even really think about She Li, or the absence of him, really. Liberty might be the deepest abyss he knows, vertiginous and unforgiving, and he's not ready to jump in it just yet.  
Right now, it's short-term and obvious: he wants to see He Tian.

His phone is dead. He forgot to turn it off after the call and found its corpse on the nightstand in the morning. He didn't take his charger before leaving, so now it's just a useless black rectangle, an obsolescent little deadweight, and He Tian is out of reach.

He contemplates going home to charge his phone first, but only when he finds himself in front of He Tian's building does he realize he gave He Tian's address to the taxi driver.

Ah, shit. Whatever.  
Maybe He Tian's home? And even if he has to wait for a while, it's no biggie, right?

Yeah, right.

When he arrives, he rings and he rings but no answer.  
He waits outside for what must be a good hour, the wind rising in a cold thickness and running between his legs like a wild dog. He manages to sneak inside by following a neighbor who returns home. He tries to appear as innocent as possible under their scrutinizing glare. It doesn't work. His delinquent badassery is a blessing and a curse.

On the floor of He Tian's apartment, there is a house plant. Guan Shan isn't an expert in vegetation but he's pretty sure it's a calathea. His father's restaurant used to have one.  
It's well-kept, lively, and medium-sized. It's also the only living thing on this floor. Since He fucking Tian is at work or whatever.  
There is literally nothing he can do to entertain himself, not even playing mind-numbing games on his phone, so he ends up getting really acquainted with it. It's very elegant, with solid tendrils, tender green, veined with  
purple. It's got exactly 80 leaves. They're very soft. Guan Shan tugs on them. And he thinks, because again, there is jackshit to do, here.

How do you even take care of a calathea?

Who takes care of it? A resident? Probably not He Tian. He is barely capable of taking care of himself.

The fuck is he doing? Guan Shan feels like he's waited a whole month already. He's probably taking his time to come home. Probably not in a rush. Probably not even thinking about Guan Shan. What a bastard, he mutters. The plant seems to agree.

Maybe He Tian didn't fucking mean it. Any of it. Maybe he used Guan Shan just like She Li, and he's done. Mission accomplished, he got to be a hero and now Guan Shan is half-forgotten, already a fond memory and He Tian is moving on to some random bitch with a squeaky laugh-  
Ah, only 79 leaves remaining now. Calathea, sorry. Guan Shan didn't mean it. He just got stuck into his well-known spiral of paranoia.

He keeps playing with the leaves as his thoughts rise and fall like tide waves.

The little beep of the elevator makes him jolt up. He holds his breath and squeezes the torn leaf between his fingers. He watches the number change on the elevator screen.

Somebody comes out. It's He Tian. He's all clothed in black like he just attended the world's sexiest funeral, and when he notices Guan Shan, he goes still. 

He looks at him and seems unsurprised. Unsurprised, and hostile.

What? 

The following silence is filled with needles. Guan Shan should say something, to make it better. “Hey. My phone died and I didn't know when you were going to be home, so. I waited. You sure took your time, asshole.” He puts his hand on his pockets to give himself the impression of nonchalance, and gently strokes the leaf, still between his fingers. He Tian doesn't answer. He just stares. Unsurprised. Hostile.

Nothing moves.  
Even the calathea is more lively than He Tian, right now. Certainly more happy to be in his presence, at least. Guan Shan feels cheated. What is going on?  
Why?

“So, huh. Yesterday, what a day, huh?” Guan Shan tries again. 

No answer. No surprise. Hostility.  
Okay, what is happening? Guan Shan is seriously considering making this stupid plant his new lover. It'll treat him right, he's sure. It has soft leaves.  
Unlike that bitch He Tian who just looks at him like he peed in his thermos.

“God fucking damn it, He Tian, are you gonna talk or-”

“I'm going to ram you up a wall.”

Guan Shan blinks. “Sorry?”

“I, He Tian, am going to ram you, Mo Guan Shan, against a wall. This one, to be exact.” He Tian vaguely gestures at something behind Guan Shan's shoulder. Guan Shan doesn't look at it. He just stares at the extended finger, dumbfounded. “I'm just giving you three seconds to prepare yourself. Three. Two.”

“He Tian.”

“One.”

“What the fuck?”

And three seconds would have never been enough for the way He Tian charges at him until he's stuck between him and the wall, he steals his movements by pinning his wrists above his head and he steals his breath because he's kissing him, again, and again, and again, and it's bruising. 

Guan Shan tries to answer, to give back bite after bite but Oh, God.

Fuck.

He Tian is as smothering as a warm night before a storm, suffocating, burning, endless, full of constellations. Towering above him in darkness, in bright furor, in feverish midnights.  
Guan Shan can't fight against a night. 

“Shit- wait-” He struggles.

“You're actually trying to drive me insane.” He Tian mutters between clenched teeth, but he backs up. A little.

Guan Shan huffs, and annoyance flares up instantly. “No? I think it's reasonable no to make out against a fucking wall in a public space, He Tian.”

He Tan snorts. He is entirely unfriendly, in a refined way that makes Guan Shan wants to slap him. “Reasonable. You're making me crazy with worry, and with want, and now you want reason?”

“I-”

“I had no news of you whatsoever for the whole day. Why didn't you go home to charge your phone?” He Tian continues. “You could have. You could have let me know you were back and everything was still okay. Instead, you waited here, doing nothing, and let me boil all day. Do you even know what you did to me?”

Why didn't he go home?  
He doesn't know.  
It seems so stupid now that he thinks about it. Or, worse than stupid, pathetic. But somehow it felt more logical to wait here than to go home. Somehow, it felt more natural to see He Tian before seeing his good, comforting armchair. Somehow, it was far more sufferable to wait here, with nothing to do but torturing a poor plant, than going home, if it meant he'll get to meet with He Tian as soon as possible. Since he got here, the thought of going home never crossed his mind, not even once. Like not waiting for He Tian wasn't even an option.  
How's that, for boiling?

But of course, Guan Shan can't say that.  
He buries his head against He Tian's chest and whispers bitterly, directly to his heart. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Fuck.” He hears He Tian mutter before his feet leave the ground and he's being lifted on He Tian's shoulder.

“Put me down!” He yells, offended by the way He Tian's strength turns the weight of his body into nothingness, but the bastard doesn't listen. He leads them into the apartment, Guan Shan scratching his back in a poor attempt to be treated better than a sack of potatoes. 

“Fuck you.” He yelps as he's being thrown on the bed ungraciously. 

He Tian digests his anger as if it were a delicious appetizer. In lieu of a response, he tugs playfully on his shoes. 

“Do you remember what we talked about? On the phone.” He says as he takes the left one off slowly.  
Oh.  
So now He Tian has decided his temper tantrum has ended and he wants to fuck. And everything has to go according to what he and his uncontrolled hormones want. Guan Shan Should be chocked. He should be outraged. But instead, he's hard.

“Yeah...” He says. He Tian isn't even really touching him yet but it's still dizzying.

“I thought about bad, bad things...” He continues. The second shoe falls on the floor and Guan Shan shudders as He Tian's thumbs slip underneath the belt of his pants.

“You told me about them.” He hears himself answering in a shaky voice.

He Tian gives him a knowing smile. “Oh, trust me, baby, you don't even know half of it.”

“No?” It meant to sound like a challenge but it comes off as a half-supplication. God, why is this so excruciatingly good? Guan Shan wants to be naked already, but he also wants this undressing to never stop. He wants He Tian to take off his layers again and again until he's nothing but pure, raw energy.

"God, no." He Tian chuckles. In one swift, hungry motion, he yanks Guan Shan's pants down violently, the movement so swift that his legs burn with the friction. It's a miracle the denim not shredded, but even if it were Guan Shan couldn't care less.  
He Tian's arrogance, coupled with the barbaric nature of his behavior, is so fucking sexy to him at this moment. Maybe because it's so insufferable. He doesn't know what is what anymore, irritation or lust, maybe they were always siamese.  
Whatever, who cares. He's going to get that dick, now, and that what matters.

He sits up, grabs He Tian's erection, not subtle at all inside his stupid black pants, and pulls it towards him. “Show me.”

He Tian looks at him, pupils blown, eyes turning into galaxies, and turns him around brutally. Guan Shan gasps, his erection now straining against the sheets.

He hears ruffling, the distinct clicking sound of a belt and then a naked body is against his, and a mouth is against his neck. A hand reaches for something in the bedside table, and Guan Shan looks at it, very distant, as his only focus is teeth on his nape and a very hard cock rubbing at his lower back. He tries very hard not to make the sob that sits at the back of his throat.

Burning hands grab his asscheeks as cold fingers rub between them. He lays on his belly as He Tian's fingers probe, ask, and enter slowly, one after the other. It's so fucking good, but there is also something foreign about this. This body that is not his own controlling him- inside him, claiming him-  
his will unimportant, barely present anymore as someone makes him-

Shit. 

“Yellow! Yellow...”

The gesture stops inside him, and lips brush his shoulder. “What's wrong?” A voice asks.

“I want to- see your face.” Guan Shan mutters against the pillow. Both wanting to be heard and really fucking embarrassed about the words coming of his mouth right now.

“Say please.” 

Ah. Guan Shan can't help but smile. This isn't foreign at all. It's He Tian. Guan Shan knows him. he knows this.

“Ah... please. And fuck you.”

He Tian pulls back as Guan Shan rolls on his back. He almost regrets it, because He Tian looks unfairly attractive, in the way he smiles fondly at him. This handsomeness, he used to use it against He Tian. Used to feed his resentment with the anonymity of He Tian's beauty, how his appearance belonged to everyone, always observed, always seen. Now, he burns with the wish that he was the only one knowing it. He wants to be the one keeping for himself all the favors of the moonlight.

He Tian towers above him as fingers go inside him again. They massage his insides, press mercilessly against a spot that makes him jolt and cry out.  
He grabs on to He Tian's shoulders and his fingernails dig in. 

"He Tian-" He tries.

"Hmm?" He Tian answers, fingering him like it's an end and not a means. Like his own cock isn't painfully leaking against Guan Shan's thigh.

"This is enough, dude, come on." Guan Shan manages to say, as he arches his back a little. He meant to entice He Tian, but the fingers inside him fucks him deeper, harsher. He Tian gives him a light, punishing slap on his cock and he sobs. He swears he's already going to come.

"Don't call me dude when half my hand is in your ass.”

God, enough with the playful bullshit. It stopped being cute yesterday. He Tian is ready to make them both suffer for his little teasing game, but Guan Shan sure as hell isn't. He grabs He Tian's cock and gives a slow tug. "Jesus, Tian, when are you going to- ah- to-"  
He doesn't have to finish, and that's good because he doesn't think he could. He Tian curses in his breath.  
He pulls his fingers out and straightens up. As he reaches for the condom, Guan Shan palms at his lower belly and slowly caresses upwards, and when his arms lock around He Tian's neck, the condom is put on and He Tian aligns himself.

But he doesn't push inside. Instead, he lets a long sigh and lowers his head. His eyes disappear behind a rain of black hair.  
God, what now?

“Did you come already? Are you really that old?” Guan Shan taunts, aiming at He Tian's anger. At that point, he's so desperate he'll accept angry sex.

“.... I really wanted to do it right.” He Tian murmurs.

“What?”

What about this isn't right?  
The only thing that isn't right is that He Tian isn't fucking him right now. It's more than not right, it's a tragedy. Guan Shan will write it himself. Five acts. Two characters. 50 000 words. A modern classic.

“Our first time, I mean. I wanted to make it count. You know, rose petals on the bed, candles... some soft music... A bottle of champagne? Maybe.” He says that, mostly to himself, completely unprovoked. Unrivaled in his confidence, as he describes the most cheesy scenario known to mankind. Guan Shan can't believe it. His face is burning so much the bed will catch fire.

Then it hits him. Rather, it falls upon him like a shooting star, and he can't believe he didn't see it coming.

“Oh my god. You're a sappy shit.” He says breathlessly.

A soft chuckle. “I prefer the term hopeless romantic, thank you very much.”

Same difference, as much as Guan Shan is concerned. “He Tian, I don't fucking care about that girly crap. Just...”

He pushes He Tian's hair back. He barrens him, so he can see him as naked as possible. So they can both be devoid of ways to hide. And, because He Tian looks at him in a bashful, eager way, he lifts his head presses his lips against his forehead. “Tian, I only care about this.”

He Tian smiles with a softness that seems unknown to him and bends down, hiding in the crook of his neck as he starts to push inside slowly.

Jesus fuck. As Guan Shan feels it inside, he knows. He'll ever forget this, this first stretch, the genesis of his body knowing He Tian's shape and curling around it. He could live a hundred years, fuck He Tian every day or never fuck him again, and he'll remember this burn exactly. “Fuck, shit.” 

“Does it hurt?” He Tian asks, his voice breaking at the final syllable. He's not moving yet, like a gentleman, but he's also taking Guan Shan's shirt off to leer at his nipples, like a creep. And Guan Shan wants both of those men.

“Yeah- it feels fucking good.” he answers breathlessly.

He Tian lifts his head and looks at him, a bit unbelieving, and he starts to move.

Guan Shan has been fucked in his life, but never like this.  
Their bodies keep moving to meet, harder, stronger each time, only moving back to collide better. And with each movement, it feels like something is being constructed between them, something warm, drenched with sun, and coarse like bark. It's building, by He Tian's hands gripping his waist, or his mouth blindly seeking for He Tian's shoulder.  
It blooms slowly inside him as well. The petals, giant waves of pleasure, unfold in his limbs, until there is nothing else but the meeting points of their body, sensitive and tingling. Then it explodes in white spots and red stars as he comes, and the only thing he is aware of is someone wiping his tears away.

When he opens his eyes, He Tian is staring at him, not moving. He smiles like unraveling Guan Shan was a personal triumph. Completely arrogant, a king looking at the drawn map of his new empire.

Challenging as ever, Guan Shan, even as boneless as he feels right now, wants to see him come apart. Fall from grace, lose his crown. He takes He Tian's hand, brings his thumb to his mouth and starts to suck. He Tian groans and his stupid, arrogant little smile disappears as he starts moving again.

Victory.

He Tian's finger presses against his tongue, sinking into its velvet redness, and Guan Shan sinks his teeth into the skin, a ring of ivory. He's being overstimulated, it's already too much, but it doesn't matter, because He Tian looks so close now. He seems pained, almost a little lost, and Guan Shan smiles tiredly around his finger.

When he comes Guan Shan accepts it all. He accepts the way the thumb inside his mouth seeks deeper, almost making him gag. He accepts He Tian's loud moan at his ears. He accepts this body crumbling on him like an avalanche. He feels completely opened, like everything in him was pried apart to welcome He Tian's shape, his voice, his life.

He doesn't say anything after this, he just lets He Tian crush him against the mattress, his body as broad as daylight completely covering his. He can barely breathe, but it seems really unimportant right now. He'll breathe later.

He Tian pulls out with a small sigh. Guan Shan has to look away. He doesn't want their eyes to meet, god knows what he'll see. What he'll let be seen.  
He hears He Tian move, probably discarding the condom, and then a hand on his hip. The thumb doing that little circle thing.

"Mo-zai?"

God, he has to look at the bastard now, hasn't he? Fine, whatever.

They stare at each other and something is being revealed, but neither of them comments on it. They let the moment pass, unnamed, lightstruck.

He Tain lays back next to him and frowns as if he felt something he shouldn't have felt. He reaches behind his back and pulls something from the sheets.  
The leaf. Forgotten in the dark material of Guan Shan's pocket, it must have fallen off when that fucking beast almost tore his pants appart.

“Hey, there it is.” Guan Shan says.

“What's that?”

“The 80th leaf of the tree outside your apartment. I think it's a calathea.”

He Tian, rich of this new information, examines it and smiles. He rolls it between his fingers and tucks it behind Guan Shan's ear. “Cute.”

How? This guy is insane. 

They don't say anything. He Tian runs his fingers along his back and he plays with He Tian's soft cock. He can't help it. Its texture is so different when it's not hard.

"If you keep doing that, it's going to be very happy very soon." He Tian purrs.

"I'll bite it off." Guan Shan answers lazily. It makes He Tian laugh. Guan Shan decides he likes this sound.

“What now?” He Tian asks him after a few minutes of silence.

The fucking question. Guan Shan can try to avoid it as much as he wants, but he'll have to find an answer eventually. “I don't really have the energy to think about it. But I guess...”

He exhales loudly. Although he doesn't know the details, he can draw the skeleton of his future. He continues “I'll finish my studies, now. Take a part-time job or ten until it's finished. I don't know. God, it's going to be so fucking tiring.” But he meant it when he said th She Li he'll do it. He has saved some money, and he can use it to pay tuition. He'll need to move apartments, find somewhere even more cheap and small. Just like that, the familiar patterns come back to his brain, numbers, prices, spiraling together, additions, subtractions, a cathedral of calculus he built year after year of poverty. Until He Tian speaks again. 

“I could keep paying.”

Guan Shan blinks and looks up at him.“What?”

“I could keep paying. It will be the same, we spend time together and I will support you. But this time, It's just me. It's just us.” He Tian speaks softly, but his voice leaves no place for debate.

Guan Shan tries to wrap his head around the proposition. “Are you- are you offering me to be my fucking sugar daddy?”

“We can call it that, sure.”

He thinks about it. It's a good solution, he knows. It'll solve a lot of his problems, that's for sure, and he'll be an idiot to say no. But it'll also be incredibly stupid to say yes. Being dependant on someone, isn't that the awful prison he just got out of? He knows He Tian isn't She Li. But giving someone else all the agency over this life, it's a thing he can't ever do again. No matter the identity of the person at the other end of the leach. “I'm okay with you helping from time to time. But I'm still taking a part-time job. I want to make my own money.”

He Tian's smile drops. He says nothing, and clearly doesn't agree, but he nods nonetheless.

“And I'm not calling you daddy.” Guan Shan adds, more for the sake of making He Tian smile again than anything else.

It works, that smug little shape makes a dazzling comeback on He Tian's face. “How about Tian-Ge?”

“No amount of money will earn you that kind of respect from me.”

He Tian chuckles helplessly. “You're so mean. Really taking the “sugar” out of “sugar baby.” No sweetness at all.”

“If you want sweetness just buy a chocolate bar.”

“Or a banana bread factory.”

“Sure, weirdo.” Guan Shan takes the leaf from behind his ear and puts it on top of He Tian's head. He Tian looks disgustingly pleased.

Silence falls back on them. It's very nice and quiet, an immaterial moment. Before He Tian opens his goddamn mouth again.

“As my sugar baby, your first task will be to make me dinner.”

Really? It's starting now? Fuck, okay.  
Well, that seems simple enough. It's more the job of a nanny than a sugar baby but-

“Naked.”

He Tian catches his horrified expression, and his smile has everything to do with cruelty. He strokes his hair as if he had always the best intentions at heart, and continues, his voice dripping with sadism.

“Don't make that face, Mo-zai. I'll allow you to wear an apron if you ask veeery nicely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel these dom/sub undertones? They're only going to get more pronounced. Ya, this fic is going to turn into a kinkfest, because I'm what? Depraved, Linda.  
> Also, can you believe that there finally officially sugar daddy/ baby? After chapter 14? Good lord, this fanfic is so long. 
> 
> Also, in canon, He Tian has turned the "sugar daddy" vibes on SO HARD in the last chapters, like wow. Thanks, Old Xian! I feel understood.


End file.
